Models & Musicians I: Matchmaking
by Rietta
Summary: AU. Theirs was a relationship full of questions: Is it safe to date a guy with the same PR agent as you? Can you really trust your best friend to set you up? And just what is the deal with that seven date rule anyway?
1. First Impressions

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- This is 'Models & Musicians', Take I. (There will be several alternate versions of the concept cropping up- there are just too many directions in which you can take the concept of Jack as a model, Ianto as a musician and Gwen as their PR agent!) This version pretty much comprises soppy romantic fluff (but who doesn't love a bit of alien-free Janto fluff at Christmas? Plus, you know, it's the only thing my muse was willing to write, in spite of my best attempts to coax it into providing the next chapter of 'Almost Here'.) Hope you enjoy, and Happy Christmas!**

-

-

-

-

**First Impressions**

-

"You're late," Jack Harkness accused the brunette who dropped breathlessly into the seat opposite him.

Gwen Cooper grinned apologetically as she took a sip of the cappuccino her best friend slid across the table towards her.

"Sorry honey, I was on the phone," she explained, slipping her coat off and relaxing back in her chair. Jack raised his eyebrow in question- Gwen's job meant by its very nature that when she got tied up in phone calls, it was usually something interesting. The brunette grinned.

"Oh yes- I have made a Find." The capital letter was quite deliberate in her tone, and Jack chuckled.

"Rhys not enough for you dear?"

"Not for me, you idiot!" Gwen whacked him with her napkin. "For you. I mean, if Cardiff's sexiest model can reach the grand old age of 35 without finding his true love, he evidently needs all the help he can get."

"Hey, less of the old!" Jack protested. "So… Tell me more."

Gwen grinned with the air of one about to unveil a grand prize. "His name is Ianto Jones; 26; violinist. His old PR company folded- nothing to do with me, before you ask!- so I snapped him up. He's gay, single, charming, intelligent, and very, very available. In fact, he's probably the hottest thing in Cardiff right now, except maybe you. So- interested?"

"You bet!" Jack responded with a grin. "Mind you- is it safe to date a guy with the same PR agent?"

Gwen flicked the napkin at him again. "Oi, we were friends _before_ I took on your PR, remember? I doubt it'll be an issue."

"So, when can we meet?" the American demanded, flashing his most charming smile.

Gwen laughed. "I'm meeting him for drinks at _Vigilante_ tomorrow night- want to join us?"

"Try and stop me!" Jack's tones were eager. Renowned as Cardiff's sexiest male model, he was sick of being hit on by shallow men- or worse, shallow women. There were times he wished he'd waited until he was in a settled relationship before taking up a career in modelling, but then again his mother hadn't really let that be an option. Such a glittering career was great for his sex life, but not so fantastic when it came to looking for someone to spend the rest of his life with. He and Gwen, best friends since the first week of university, had had a long-standing joke: if neither were married by the time they were forty, they'd wed one another and shag their way adulterously through Gwen's client list. All that had changed when she had met Rhys Williams, hooker for Cardiff's premier rugby team. Three years down the line, the pretty Welsh brunette was expecting a proposal at any moment and Jack had lost his 'backup option.' In light of this fact, he had engaged Gwen to use her PR genius to find him a date which had the potential to turn into a relationship, and apparently she had risen to the challenge magnificently.

That said, for some reason the American felt incredibly nervous as he picked out his outfit the following evening. It was unlikely that this Ianto Jones would have no idea what he looked like- the face (and body) of Jack Franklin Harkness was splashed across half of Cardiff, in various magazine ads and on billboards. All the same, the model was well aware that people tended to look very different in the flesh, _sans_ airbrushing, and he wanted to make a good first impression.

He was halfway to _Vigilante_ in a taxi when his mobile beeped, indicating he had received a text.

'_I wasn't aware we were taking it in turns to be late. x_'

Grinning, he rapidly texted back.

'_Sorry, wardrobe emergency- be there in five. Can you keep him that long? x_'

'_I'll try and keep my hands off him, but hurry up. x_'

Raising an eyebrow, Jack glanced outside the window and noted with pleasure that he would be at the bar in less than a minute. Even so, he could not resist one final text.

'_Thought you said he was gay? x_'

Inside the bar, Gwen chuckled.

'_He is, but if you don't arrive in ooh… two minutes, I'll try and turn him. x_' she texted back, her phone discreetly hidden in her bag whilst her eyes and smile were fixed on the young man beside her.

"So are you willing to travel for concerts, or did you want to remain purely local?" she enquired, keeping up the pretence that the meeting was actually about business.

Ianto Jones paused to consider, taking a sip of his pint. "Depends what kind of location you're talking," he responded cautiously.

"Well, London, for starters," Gwen gave an example.

"Yeah, I daresay I could do that…" Jones conceded, and she grinned.

"Fantastic." Her smile broadened as she caught sight of the man hurrying through the door. To Ianto's surprise and faint displeasure, she turned away from him and waved to someone whom he couldn't quite see through the crowd. When they shifted to reveal the newcomer, however, his breath caught in his throat.

"Oh, Ianto, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Gwen said smoothly, somehow managing to sound completely casual as she gestured to the bar stool next to Ianto to indicate that Jack should sit.

"Jack: Ianto Jones, my newest acquisition and Cardiff's hottest violinist. Ianto, this is Jack Harkness, my first acquisition and Cardiff's biggest model."

"You know, Gwen, you really ought to think your introductions through- that could be taken in completely the wrong way," Jack drawled, flashing Ianto a charming smile. "Though in this case I can certainly agree- I do believe you have found Cardiff's hottest violinist."

About to force his brain together for long enough to give a polite response to Gwen's introduction, Ianto suddenly found himself flushing scarlet.

"Have you always been that forward, or is it a result of being plastered across every magazine in the city?" he enquired.

Jack chuckled. "Ooh, loaded question! How about you buy me a drink whilst I think of a witty answer?"

The Welshman raised an eyebrow. "Alright, but the next round's on you," he cautioned. He supposed he couldn't really complain about buying this flamboyant American one drink when he hadn't actually paid for the pint in his hand- Gwen had passed the barman a tenner before Ianto had even been able to locate his wallet.

Suddenly remembering the existence of the brunette, the two men looked round, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the beer mat between them seemed to have mysteriously gained some writing.

'_Sorry guys, had to dash- just remembered Rhys is cooking for me tonight. Was going to say goodbye, but I didn't think I could get a word in edgeways. Have a nice night!_'

Chuckling, Ianto looked at Jack. "Why do I get the feeling we've been set up?"

"No idea," the American grinned back. "The altogether-too-neat message on the beer mat have anything to do with it?"

"Quite possibly," Ianto mused. "So anyway, what are you drinking?"

Jack considered. "Will I sound totally camp if I order a tequila sunrise?"

The Welshman grinned. "Well, I seem to remember a certain eighties cop show where Harry makes Dempsey a tequila… well, sun_set_, to be precise, but anyway. Dempsey, I think you would have to say, is very much macho and most definitely not camp. So I guess I can get you a tequila sunrise without thinking any less of you."

He received a dazzling grin in return. "How incredibly kind of you, Mr Jones. The macho pint worried me for a second, I must say. But anyway- you watch 'Dempsey and Makepeace'? I thought I was the only guy in Cardiff that sad!" He nodded his thanks to the barman as a tequila sunrise appeared in front of him as if by magic, along with the words 'on the house'.

Grinning both at not having to pay for the drink after all (he was just a touch cash-strapped at that precise moment in time) and at Jack's comment, Ianto tried not to sound desperately uncool (or desperately desperate, for that matter).

"Are you kidding me? Come on, Harkness, you cannot tell me that you haven't noticed- Dempsey is hot."

"Ooh, got a thing about Americans, have you?" Jack teased. "Lucky me."

Ianto laughed. "Only the hot ones."

"Damn."

The rapid yet totally serious reply made the Welshman laugh again, temporarily forgetting his monetary troubles. It looked like something good might finally be coming his way after all. And from the looks of it, he wouldn't even have to try too hard to create an image- his sixth sense was telling him that here was a guy he could just be himself with.

Suddenly Jack laughed. "Dear God, Ianto, I've known you, what, twenty minutes, and already you know more secrets about me than I usually divulge before the third date."

The violinist raised an eyebrow. "You're evidently a secretive man then- all I seem to know about you so far is that you're a bolshy American model who secretly watches 'Dempsey and Makepeace'."

"Like I said- a lot." Jack tried hard to keep the bitterness from his tones as he hastened to explain. "You're young, Ianto- when you've been around a little longer, you'll understand that giving away too much too soon usually ends in a tabloid exposé. It takes at least two dates to sound a guy out, and check if he's shallow. Fifty percent of the guys I date turn out to be only interested in my body- because I'm a model, they assume I'm stupid, shallow and loose."

"Well, as a violinist, I doubt I'll find that out to that extent," Ianto mused, subtly turning his body more towards Jack's so that their legs brushed lightly together. "But this may be a good time to tell you that I am in full possession of a brain, and know exactly how to use it. I hate publicity, so the chances of me selling anything to a tabloid are very remote. And believe it or not, I'd quite like to take you out to dinner before I drag you into bed…" he trailed off, shocked at his sudden boldness. Usually he waited to be asked out, especially when presented with an older, more confident guy. Suddenly feeling terribly embarrassed, he turned his face away. Soft fingers under his jaw turned it back, and he found himself gazing into impossibly blue eyes alight with laughter.

"Oh, so you _do_ want to drag me into bed eventually? That's a relief- I thought you were just after my DVD collection."

Ianto grinned. "Well, take me to dinner, sir, and maybe I'll let you show me your DVD collection."

Jack snorted. "That has got to be the most bizarre euphemism for 'penis' I've ever heard."

He was rewarded with a shy yet impossibly charming smile. "Oh, you saw through that? Damn- either I'm painfully transparent, or your modelisers are wrong and you do have a brain."

"Oh, I have a brain alright!" Jack retorted, shifting so that his foot was resting on Ianto's bar stool. "First class degree in astrophysics- who cares if it's only from the University of Cardiff instead of Oxford, like my best friend from sixth form? A degree is a degree."

"Wow." Ianto was impressed. "You've got me beat. I refused to study Music; took my degree in History instead and only managed to come out with a two-one. My father was furious- he's barely spoken to me since. He had such high hopes for me, considering that I'm the first in the family to go to university."

"A two-one is still an excellent qualification," Jack defended his new acquaintance as he replaced his glass on the bar with a frown. "Is it me, or did all the nice alcohol vanish?"

"I think a little elf popped up from under the table and drank it all whilst you were distracted by my dashingly handsome visage," Ianto deadpanned, setting his empty pint glass next to Jack's cocktail one. Hiding a smile with difficulty, the American glanced beneath the bar with exaggerated seriousness, then glared at the Welshman.

"You're lying," he accused, and waited a beat. "We're not sat at a table."

The observation was so unexpected that Ianto's laugh caught in his throat, causing him to splutter. Blue eyes full of concern, Jack brought his hand round to rub the violinist's back soothingly as he fought to get his breathing under control.

"Thanks," Ianto murmured, as soon as he had the vocal capacity.

"No problem," Jack responded with another show-stopping grin, sliding his hand down the Welshman's arm to rest on his hand. "So. I don't know about you, but I'm starving; and if I remember rightly there's a gorgeous little Italian place a couple of blocks away. Want to go eat?"

"As long as you're paying," the Welshman grinned, slipping down from the bar stool and into his coat. Jack echoed his actions and gallantly offered him an arm.

"Oh, I think I might just manage that, having just signed a new contract and all."

Dinner passed in a blur of delicious food, light-hearted banter and further confessions of the DVD collection. 10pm came and went almost without their noticing, and it was only when the restaurant practically threw them out at ten to eleven that Jack and Ianto hailed a pair of taxis and went their separate ways, identical blissful smiles plastered on each face.


	2. The Morning After

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- This is 'Models & Musicians', Take I. (There will be several alternate versions of the concept cropping up- there are just too many directions in which you can take the concept of Jack as a model, Ianto as a musician and Gwen as their PR agent!) This version pretty much comprises soppy romantic fluff (but who doesn't love a bit of alien-free Janto fluff at Christmas? Plus, you know, it's the only thing my muse was willing to write, in spite of my best attempts to coax it into providing the next chapter of 'Almost Here'.) Hope you enjoy, and Happy Christmas!**

-

-

-

-

**The Morning After**

-

"Ianto Jones, are you aware of what the time is?" Toshiko Sato demanded, rolling over in bed and glaring at her alarm clock.

'_Sorry Tosh_,' apologetic Welsh tones drifted down the line. '_But I had the best night last night and I simply couldn't wait to tell you about it_.'

Despite the ungodly hour (as a freelance software designer and lover of late night movies, it was rare that Toshiko saw the break of eight-thirty) the technological genius couldn't help the smile that spread out over her face.

"Really? That's fantastic, Yan! But you know I need caffeine to function- come over and make me some of your wonder brew and tell me all about it when I'm awake enough to be properly happy for you?"

She was greeted by a laugh. '_Of course. I'll be with you in twenty minutes. Don't go back to sleep!_'

"As if I dared," she murmured with a grin, hanging up and hauling herself out of bed. If she had to get up so disgustingly early for her necessary gossip fix, then a shower was needed in short order.

-

-

'_Jack Franklin Harkness, I can't believe it's quarter to nine and you haven't rung me to tell me how last night went yet!_'

"Have you any idea what time it is, you sadistic cow? It's my day off, damnit!" Jack swore back, making Gwen laugh.

'_If you get your arse out of bed and meet me in La Café François at half past I'll buy you breakfast,_' she coaxed.

"Pain au chocolat and black coffee?" the model questioned somewhat childishly.

'_Of course- as your PR agent it's my duty to ruin your figure with chocolaty breakfasts_,' she retorted, making him grin.

"Ok, ok, I'm there! See you in forty minutes."

'_I'd better do, or I warn you, Harkness, I'm coming straight over to drag the sordid details out of you by force. I can't believe it's nearly nine and you haven't provided me with my gossip fix yet!_'

"You know the deal, Cooper- I only give gossip in exchange for caffeine," he responded, then hung up. If they got into another bantering match over the phone, then he'd never make it to _La Café François _and Gwen's phone bill would be large enough to make Rhys scream again (a somewhat spectacular feat for the partner of a well-paid rugby player.)

-

-

"So- this disgustingly fantastic night of yours- tell all!" Tosh demanded the moment Ianto stepped through her front door, bearing coffee beans and a goofy grin.

"Give me a second to shut the door and pause for breath!" her best friend teased, heading for the kitchen to start the first pot of the caffeine-loaded beverage without which they could not function. Once they were both seated at Tosh's kitchen table with steaming mugs, the Welshman finally began his account of the previous evening.

"So, you know I told you yesterday that I had to leave because I had a drinks meeting in _Vigilante_ with Gwen?"

Tosh nodded, trying to suppress the pang of… envy? she felt at the mention of Gwen's name. Quite why she, a software designer, should feel threatened by Cardiff's most successful PR agent, she did not know- only that she did.

"Well, what little meeting we had went swimmingly- she's going to try and fix me up some concerts in Cardiff and London," Ianto began with the boring details.

"That's great, Ianto!" the technology expert sounded suitably enthusiastic- she knew how much Ianto needed the money. Despite her numerous offers of financial assistance, the Welshman was too proud to borrow from his friends. Suddenly recalling Ianto's precise wording, Tosh frowned.

"Hang on- you said 'what little meeting'?"

"Yeah, we kind of got interrupted- accidentally on purpose, I feel," the Welshman explained slowly.

"Oh, drop the cryptic clues, I haven't had enough caffeine yet!" Tosh scolded, making him chuckle.

"Ok, ok! You'll never guess who I met last night."

"One of Gwen's illustrious clients, I'll bet. Unless… It wasn't the famous Rhys Williams, was it?"

"Nope." Ianto shook his head, paused for effect. "Jack Harkness."

"No!" The effect was everything he'd hoped for. If there was a market for envy, Ianto could have made his fortune bottling the emotion caught in that single word.

"You lucky, lucky bastard." Tosh had had a crush on the model for as long as she or Ianto could remember. It pre-dated their first meeting during Fresher's Week at university in London. (So, as a matter of fact, did Ianto's.)

"So, what's he like?" she demanded eagerly. "Is he as hot in real life as he is on the billboards?"

Ianto sighed dreamily. "Oh, yeah. And he's really really nice too, Tosh- so charming and friendly and funny. Gwen introduced us, and he made some joke about her choice of wording, and the conversation just flowed so easily that we didn't even notice when she left. And then we just talked for ages through the rest of our drinks, just about this and that, everything and nothing. I kind of asked him out, and then he kind of asked me out, and somewhere along the line we ended up in _Sorontino's_ on the best first date ever. They practically had to throw us out at closing time, we were in there so long. We have so many tastes in common, and our differences are ones that we can easily work around. And oh, Tosh, he's _such_ a good kisser! When we were outside waiting for taxis, he sort of slipped his arms around my waist and turned me to face him and told me he had a simply wonderful time and could we do it again some time? I said '_Yes!_' of course, and then he cupped my face in his hand so gently and he kissed me. And it wasn't demanding or anything, like you'd expect from someone that hot and that successful, who could get anyone he wanted; but it was so gentle and full of promise. Oh, Tosh, I know I'm probably being stupid here; I mean, I've known the guy less than twenty-four hours. But I think I'm in love!"

"Oh Yan, that's amazing!" Tosh enthused convincingly even as her friend's words dropped through her consciousness like a lead weight. They'd had a deal almost throughout their friendship that if neither of them were married by the time they were forty, they'd wed one another and just be one of those couples that never had sex. But now it seemed that Ianto had found his happy-ever-after at 26, whereas she hadn't had a date in over a year. Heaven knew the Welshman deserved some good luck, but it was so hard to be completely happy for him when a lifetime alone seemed to be looming closer and closer. Oblivious, Ianto chattered on about how fantastic Jack was and how much he couldn't wait for the second date.

'_God, he's got it bad_,' the tech expert thought to herself with a cleverly concealed sigh. It wasn't like Ianto not to notice when she was upset.

-

-

"So, how did it go?" Gwen demanded the second Jack collapsed into the seat opposite her in _La Café François_, their favourite breakfast haunt. He smirked, shrugging off his greatcoat- Cardiff Decembers were chilly.

"Delicious, fattening, figure-ruining pastries first; gossip second," he responded infuriatingly, and she glared at him.

"I've ordered you your coffee and pain au chocolat- now give me the gossip before I ring Ianto and apologise for setting him up with a wanker who doesn't want to take him out again."

Jack gasped theatrically. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would," Gwen smirked back, tugging her phone out of her bag.

"Ok, ok, it was fabulous!" Jack conceded hastily, a blissful smile spreading over his lips. "We talked through the rest of our drinks, flirted a little… Then he kind of asked me out- not properly, you know, but he said that he wanted to take me out to dinner before he dragged me into bed…" He paused to smile his thanks to the waitress who had just deposited their breakfast on the table.

Gwen spluttered over her first sip of coffee. "He said what?!"

The American grinned. "He said he wanted to take me out to dinner before he dragged me into bed."

"Let me guess- and you said 'Your place or mine?'" Gwen chuckled; startled when Jack shook his head.

"He looked really embarrassed right after he said that, and turned away; so I turned his head back to look at me then made some joke about it being a relief. By that time we'd pretty much finished the drinks, so I asked him to accompany me to dinner, and took him to _Sorontino's_. I think there was food- I think it was good, too. It usually is there, though I can't say I noticed last night. What I do know is that there was lots of flirting, lots of banter, lots of conversation and one delicious Welsh violinist running his foot up my leg. How I managed to get us separate taxis after that I don't know. But it was a fabulous evening- the perfect first date."

As Jack continued speaking, Gwen's smile grew and grew so that she was positively beaming as she responded.

"Do I know how to pick them or what?"

"You know how to pick them," Jack agreed with an equally dazzling grin, before growing serious. "And I mean it, Gwen- I've known the guy what, twelve hours? And I think this could be it. I was falling for him even before I kissed him."

"Dear god, that has to be a record!" Gwen teased, attempting to hide the sudden tears gleaming in her eyes behind the mirror in her compact. Jack wasn't fooled for a second.

"Damn, I should have told you I'm in love with him- that way I could have stolen your croissant on the pretext of stopping it getting wet."

"Selfish git," Gwen retorted with only a hint of a sniffle. "You know you don't like croissants unless they involve chocolate."

"Well they're just not effective at screwing up a good figure without chocolate," Jack pouted, then sighed. "Damn, I'm going to have to go for a run this afternoon to work this off."

Gwen chuckled. "Or… you could call Ianto, arrange a second date, and organise your, ahem, 'work-out' that way."

"Gwen, you're a genius!" Jack beamed, fishing out his mobile and staring at Ianto's number. He seemed to have been doing that a lot since they had parted company the previous evening. With his fingers hovering over the 'call' button, he frowned.

"Hang on, it's not too soon, is it?"

Gwen rolled her hazel eyes. "Since when did you ever play by the rules, Harkness?"

He rolled his blue eyes back at her. "Look, I don't want to mess this one up, ok?"

She smiled. "You're right. At least wait until he's woken up before you call him. Ring him after six tonight, or maybe wait until tomorrow? That's not too desperate but still says you want to see him again."

"Good idea." Resolutely, Jack slipped the phone back into his pocket. Gwen looked at her watch and sighed.

"Damn, much as I would love to stay and hear the minute details of that kiss, I've got to dash- have a meeting with the rugby squad."

Jack grinned. "Genuinely, or is that a euphemism for sex with Rhys?"

The PR agent rolled her eyes again. "At twenty past ten on a Friday morning when I could be hearing every single tiny detail of your date last night? Of course it's not a euphemism- some of us have to work today, darling."

"Have fun at the office, dearest!" Jack called after her as he drained his coffee cup and fished out the cash for the bill. Now, what to do with the rest of the day?


	3. The Waiting Game

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Sorry this has been such a long time coming! I kind of got writer's block in the middle of this chapter, which my muse decided to attempt to resolve by forcing me to write Models & Musicians instead. But ah well; hope it was worth the wait! With any luck the interval between this chapter and the next won't be so long.**

-

-

-

**The Waiting Game**

-

7:15pm

"So- has he called yet?" Toshiko demanded the second Ianto opened the door. The tech expert had had a good ten hours to come to terms with the Welshman's new-found happiness, and she was damned if she was going to let her reservations about her own life get in the way of her best friend's delight. All the same, ten hours wasn't quite enough to set the resolve completely, and so it was both disappointment and relief that flooded her when Ianto shook his head.

"No. Am I being a fool for thinking he'll call today, Tosh?"

Ianto was supposed to be spending his evening dining out with Tosh, but in the light of the previous evening he had persuaded her to let him cook for her instead- he didn't want to miss it if Jack called. Tosh hadn't minded- she knew he was incredibly strapped for cash, and she knew that as a gentleman he would have refused to let her get the bill had they gone out.

"No," she reassured him quickly. "You're not being foolish at all, Yan. But the world won't end if he doesn't call until tomorrow, you know. Maybe he just doesn't want to seem too keen."

Ianto smiled at her. "You're right. Come on, I'll get you a glass of wine. Dinner should be ready in ten minutes."

-

-

8:20pm

"So- have you called him yet?"

"Christ, Cooper, anyone would think you were stalking me!" Jack responded with a grin as he ushered her inside and dropped his keys on the kitchen counter. "How long were you stood there?"

"Long enough to realise I wouldn't have long to wait because you'd planned a night in; but not so long I gave up and went home."

"I think there was some sense in there somewhere, but evidently I need more alcohol before I'll see it," he teased.

Gwen laughed, shaking her head when he moved to divest her of her coat. "Oh, I won't impose on you long- Rhys is expecting me back at half-past. But I was passing on my way home and I wanted to know if you'd called Ianto."

"Ever heard of the phone?" Jack enquired with a chuckle.

"Well you apparently haven't," Gwen shot back, noting with exasperation and just a touch of self-ashamedness that they were both skirting round one another's questions again.

"It's a good thing you're gay, Harkness- we'd never have worked as a couple."

"Where's that coming from?" he asked, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of wine.

"You haven't answered my question."

Jack treated her to his world-famous megawatt smile. "Firstly, I don't know about that- you sound like a flipping wife sometimes."

She hit him, chuckling as he narrowly missed slopping wine onto the pristine worktop. He mock-glared at her as he set down the bottle.

"Secondly, no I haven't called Ianto. I'm waiting until tomorrow. And thirdly- you haven't answered _my_ question. Properly," he hastily added, seeing the protest on her lips. She grinned.

"Well the fact I was stood out in the hall at all kind of indicated that you were due back any minute and planning a night in- if you'd been in, I'd have been let in straight away. And somehow I couldn't see you having a night out tonight after the evening you had last night."

"No shit, Sherlock." Jack was impressed by Gwen's deductive skills. Had she not been seduced by the glamorous lifestyle afforded to a PR agent she would have made a damn good policewoman.

"Elementary, my dear Watson," she shot back with a smile. If Jack's grin was dazzling, Gwen's could only be described as infectious. It probably had something to do with the cute gap between her teeth. Jack's smile robbed people of their breath and made them swoon; Gwen's made them smile back. For a PR agent, it was a positive boon.

Jack chuckled. "That sums us up alright- you got the brains and I got the looks."

She rolled her hazel eyes expressively. "I think this is the point where I storm out in a huff."

"Don't cry, darling, you're gorgeous too. Just, you know… billboard-less"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Ok, Casanova, let me rephrase that- I think this is the point where I ditch you for home-cooked lasagne and sex."

"Oh, you wound me!" he clutched his heart melodramatically, and she shook her head.

"I'm so glad you took my advice and decided not to go into acting. Night, Jack."

"Night, sweetheart." He moved from his position leaning on the counter to kiss her on the cheek and show her to the door, smiling fondly after her retreating back. He might not fancy Gwen Cooper, for obvious reasons, but he didn't half love her.

Returning to the kitchen, he picked up his wine and shut his phone resolutely in the fridge. He would _not_ call Ianto tonight unless the world was ending. When one was single and thirty-five, the last thing one wanted to sound was desperate.

-

-

9:37pm

"Maybe I should just call him?" Ianto mused, drawing Tosh's attention away from a film she was already finding it difficult enough to follow, what with her friend's twitching and phone-watching.

"Now there's an idea!" the tech expert responded with a grin, and Ianto frowned.

"No, I'd better not, I don't want to sound desperate."

Tosh sighed. "Yan, stop stressing. He _will_ call, I know he will. But it's getting pretty late and I should probably head off home now."

"What about the movie?" Ianto protested weakly.

"Honestly, Yan, do you really think either of us were watching it?"

The Welshman chucked wryly. "No, I suppose we weren't. Night then."

"Call me if he rings!" Tosh ordered as she headed out of the door, and Ianto nodded.

"Of course! Drive safe, and text me when you get home."

The tech expert smiled. "Don't I always?" Determinedly she shut the door behind her and made tracks for her car, hoping that Ianto's phone would ring soon- she didn't know if she could take another day of him being so jittery.

-

-

10:38pm

"_Sooo… Did you call yet?_"

Jack odd-looked the receiver. "Why yes, Gwen, I'm on the phone to him right now."

He could almost sense her eye-roll down the phone. "_Leave the snark to Owen darling, you're far too hot to pull it off_."

"Shouldn't you be in bed with your boyfriend?"

"_Shouldn't you be on the phone to yours?_"

It was Jack's turn to roll his eyes. "Well maybe I would be, except _somebody_ is tying up the line."

"_I would take that as my cue to piss off, except I know damn well that you're not going to call him tonight; so you're stuck with me, Harkness._"

"Damn… Couldn't you at least put Rhys on for some phone sex?"

The snort of derision which floated back was everything Jack had desired. The sound of a muffled interchange and the yell of indignation which followed was even better.

"_You keep your mans off my man, Harkness! Anyway, his response was, and I quote: 'In your dreams, Harkness! No, wait, I don't even want you dreaming about it! Ewwwww!'_"

The American chuckled. "Some men just have no taste."

"_And the ones that do never bloody call the cute Welsh violinists their friends set them up with. Jack, you were serious when you said you really liked him, weren't you? Because I don't want you leading him on…_"

"I was deadly serious!" Jack assured her hurriedly, frowning.

"_Then what? Why haven't you called him yet? Oh, wait, no you don't… You're waiting for _him_ to call_ you_, aren't you?_"

Jack flushed. "Maybe," he confessed in subdued tones.

"_I hardly think that's fair on him, Jack. I mean, you _did_ say you'd call him, right?_"

"Yeah. But what if I'm reading this all wrong, Gwen? What if he doesn't like me so much after all? I mean, I'm ten years older than him and still single, for god's sake. There's gotta be something wrong with me. What the hell would a guy like Ianto Jones see in an old poser like me?"

A second later, the phone shot away from his ear in an attempt to quieten Gwen's yell of frustration.

"_NO! Stop with the pity trip, Jack! It's far too late for me to come round with a bottle of wine and slap some sense into you. You're fucking gorgeous, darling; and the sweetest, funniest guy I know- the man would have to be out of his mind not to want to be with you. And I saw the way you clicked when I introduced you- trust me, he's interested. So stop dwelling on it and go to bed, yeah? And Jack… Call him tomorrow._"

"Is that an order," he grinned lasciviously.

"_Yes._"

"Yes, ma'am!" he shot back, relishing her chuckle. "Ok, now go shag your boyfriend, woman!"

"_If you insist… Night, Jack._"

"Night, darling. Oh, and Gwen…"

"_Yeah?_"

"Thanks."

"_Any time. I'll see you soon love. Sleep well._"

Afterwards, Jack sat and stared at the receiver for a long time. Finally, he laid it aside and headed for bed, his best friend's words ringing in his ears. Yes- he would call Ianto tomorrow. What was the worst that could happen? If the Welshman shot him down, well it wasn't as if he hadn't already had about five million failed non-relationships…

-

-

11:49pm

Damn it, it was far too late. He was never going to call now. In fact, he probably hadn't called because Ianto had spent the entire time since Tosh's departure staring at the phone; and you know what they say about a watched pot never boiling. Except in this case, a watched phone never rang. Glaring at the offending article, Ianto picked up his mobile and rattled off a quick text to Tosh:

'_No call. Obviously not as interested as he said. But then what would he see in me? Sleep well, Ianto xxx_'

Laying aside the device, he hauled himself to his feet and took his coffee mug back to the kitchen, wishing all the while that he had exchanged mobile numbers with Jack so that he could have sent the American a casual text. Although perhaps it was better like this. If he didn't call, then he didn't call; and what had Ianto lost? His good opinion of one of his heroes, that was all. On the plus side, his financial future was looking increasingly stable, so even if Jack never called it had still been a damn good week. And perhaps Gwen would get him some concert engagements so he could run away to London soon.

Sighing again, the Welshman stopped off in the living room to pick up his mobile on the way to bed. Unsurprisingly, there was a text from Tosh- she was probably running a late night diagnostic again.

'_No pity party tonight Ianto, you're a catch and you know it. Call me tomorrow and we'll talk. Night; Tosh xxx_'

Smiling to himself, the Welshman did his best to cast the American from his mind as he got ready for bed. It didn't work. He was still thinking of Jack's smile as he slipped between the sheets and pulled his pillow over his head in frustration.


	4. Trouble Brewing

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- My muse is on fire at the moment! Am halfway through the next chapter already, and I reckon I'll make it to the end of maybe chapter 7 by tonight. A huge thank you to everyone who's reviewed, hope you enjoy the next update.**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Trouble Brewing**

**-**

"If Gwen calls, tell her that PR is going through my PA today," Jack instructed, and the young blonde he was addressing his orders to nodded.

"Though really, it is unlikely that she will call…" the American mused to himself, then shrugged and shook his head when he caught the curious expression of his Personal Assistant.

"Don't worry about it, Rose. Oh, and if you have time, see if you can find me a phone directory, will you?"

The young blonde rolled her eyes. "Oh god, what have you done now Jack? You're not planning to leave the country, are you?"

"What gives you that idea?!" the American demanded, bemused, and Rose Tyler shrugged.

"I dunno, the phonebook?"

"Because that's always my preferred method of international travel…"

"Ok, my first instinct was right- I really _don't_ want to know what you've done. It must be bad if you're having to fend off Gwen with a phonebook. Though as books go, that is a good choice for self defence…"

Jack grinned. "Why, thank you! Now be a darling and trot along in search of that weapon… sorry, _phonebook_, will you? Oh, and see if you can find some _pan au chocolat_ and some decent coffee. And charge it to the magazine if you can…"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Always with the _pan au chocolat_…" she murmured as she departed.

Once she was gone, Jack took his mobile out and stared at it. Idly he flipped it open and closed a few times, then came to a decision and shoved it back in his pocket. The room was almost set up now, anyway, which meant that he'd be demanded by Wardrobe and Make-Up in approximately three seconds.

-

-

"Ianto, when I said 'call me tomorrow', I meant tomorrow as in the day, not the middle of the night!" Tosh moaned, rolling over in bed and switching the phone to the other ear.

"_Tosh, it's eleven thirty_." Ianto blatantly failed to hide his amusement, and Tosh could see his smirk in her mind's eye.

"Well I was running a diagnostic last night and only got to bed at three, so actually this is the middle of the night for me, thanks."

"_Oh, how well I know you…_"

The tech expert rolled her eyes. "So I'm guessing he hasn't called yet?"

"_Nope; not that I really expected him to call this early. But I don't want to tie up the line in case he does call tonight_."

"Ah, I see." Privately Tosh resolved to hunt this elusive American down and kill him. There couldn't be _that_ many Harknesses in the Cardiff phonebook, could there? At least if she did that Ianto wouldn't have to worry about bastards who didn't call and she wouldn't have to worry about Ianto getting hurt. Mind you, on second thoughts it probably wasn't a good idea- Jack Harkness was a minor celebrity, and she didn't fancy the consequences of being the strange girl that turned up on his doorstep and threatened to kill him. Added to which, on reflection it was highly unlikely the man was in the phonebook in the first place.

"_Tosh? You still alive?_" Ianto's tones were coloured with worry mingled with a hint of annoyance, and she shook her head to bring herself back to the present.

"Sorry, my mind drifted for a moment. You were saying?"

"_I _was_ wondering if I should just ring him; but actually that would be a really bad idea. I'm just a total nobody; and he's been a minor celebrity since before we started university, as well as being the best looking man I have ever met in my entire life. I can't call him; it just breaks every single social convention known to man. Men like Jack Harkness were created for rich and famous Adonises, not ugly penniless nobodies like me. Hell, even if he does call I can't date him, I think it would be breaking the laws of the universe or something. The planet might implode._"

"Ok, ok, stop right there!" Tosh cut firmly against her friend's tirade as she stifled a yawn and headed in the direction of caffeine. Dear god, it was far too early to have to deal with Ianto having a meltdown!

"Look, Ianto, in my experience hyper-good-looking models like Jack Harkness usually date plain and ordinary guys; so yeah, you might break the laws of the universe by dating him because as I keep telling you, you're gorgeous Yan. I wouldn't have thought he'd be the type to care about money either. And let me say this once and for all: you are NOT a nobody, Ianto Jones. You are my best friend and dear god, if I didn't have you I would be totally lost. You're practically the most important person in my universe, so you can stop putting yourself down _right now_! Jack _will_ call, just give him time."

Her tone brooked no disagreement, and he hastened to demonstrate acquiescence.

"_Ok, ok, ok, I'll just shut up! But for the record, Tosh… You're the centre of my universe, and I'm the one who would be lost without you. Thanks for listening, and yelling at me when I need it, and just being there for me._"

"That's quite alright." Trapping the phone against her shoulder, she reached for a mug and spooned some coffee granules in.

"_You're not making _instant coffee_, are you?_" Ianto's tones were laced with suspicion as he evidently heard the background sounds. "_Because if you are, I swear to god I will personally come round and _kill_ you._"

Tosh couldn't help it; she laughed. "Bye, Ianto."

His goodbye didn't come quick enough to cover his sigh before he hung up, and Tosh stared at the phone with a sigh of her own. If Jack Harkness didn't call her friend soon…

-

-

'_You have seven new messages…_' Jack raised an eyebrow. Now either it was his lucky day and they were all lucrative business calls, or he had a lot of explaining to do to Gwen. He gulped, dumping his keys on the worktop and grabbing a carton of juice from the fridge as he listened.

'_Message 1, sent today at 11:02am: Harkness, you haven't replied to any of my texts and I've left three messages on your mobile voicemail. I'm officially filing a case of neglect against you. You have some serious making up to do and pronto, Mister!_

_Message 2, sent today at 11:36am: Harkness, since when does your mobile not get answered? I didn't even get that pretty blonde bit of stuff picking up; what the fuck is up with that? So- you up for the pub tonight or what? I'll be in the usual place, eight o'clock._

_Message 3, sent today at 12:13pm: Ok, Jack, this is getting beyond a joke now. Rhys will bloody kill me if I rack up a massive phone bill texting you again, so just get back to me, ok?_

_Message 4, sent today at 1:38pm: Ooh look, and I get your voicemail yet again. You left some underwear at my place last week; I thought I'd be a gentleman for once and see if you want it back. I might even wash it for you, if you ask _really_ nicely. Give me a ring and let me know. Preferably late tonight, when you're naked and have chocolate sauce to hand._

_Message 5, sent today at 2:51pm: Jack, seriously, what's going on? You _never_ forget your mobile, and you never ignore my texts. What the hell have you done to Ianto? I can't even get through to you through Rose, she keeps insisting that you're busy and unavailable, and what can she do for me? I know you had that photoshoot today, but seriously. You haven't left the country or anything, have you? Call me as soon as you get in, or I swear I will _kill_ you._

_Message 6, sent today at 2:57pm: Oh, and I almost forgot amongst my best-friend-driven worry and concern: you are in demand again, my darling. We need a strictly business meeting to discus further options. What say I drop by tonight with a bottle of wine and some takeout?_

_Message 7, sent today at 4:06pm: Jack Harkness, you have to save me. They have actually asked me to write a bloody celebrity interview, for crying out loud. Can you believe it? I need a drop dead gorgeous model to take me out to lunch, cheer me up about the sorry state of my career, and give me something to write about in order to keep my job. I know I ought to clear it with Gwen first, but hell, you have a brain; you can make your own decisions. So please… I'm relying on you, Captain. Give me a ring to let me know if you've got a window and if your narcissistic exhibitionist streak is still as strong._'

-

-

After a good hour or so of practise, Ianto lovingly laid down his violin with a sigh. His playing hadn't been at its best, and that was really not a good thing right at the moment. Deciding he needed coffee, and fast, the Welshman headed downstairs to the kitchen, pausing briefly in the living room to hit 'play' on his answer machine.

'_You have no new messages. Absolutely none. But you knew this anyway because you've just spent all day sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. So make some coffee and stop obsessing, Ianto._'

The Welshman frowned. When had Tosh had time to fiddle around with his answerphone?

-

-

The pristine marble counter was splattered with orange juice as Jack's laughter at the final message waged war with his mouthful of drink. He hadn't known the caller had it in her to casually leave such blatant innuendo on his answer machine. He would have to ring her later and fix up a meeting- she sounded pretty desperate, and trips to London were always fun. But first, he supposed he had better call Gwen before she turned up on his doorstep with a machine gun (though privately he reckoned she'd be more at home with a standard police issue Glock pistol.)

Sighing to himself, he quickly wiped the counter down as a means of delaying the inevitable, then scoffed a couple of amaretto cookies for acceptable 5pm Dutch courage. Finally, hands shaking just a touch, he picked up the phone and pressed speed dial 2.

"_About bloody time! Where the fuck have you been all day?!_"

Eek. Gwen only swore that vehemently when she was seriously pissed off.

"Um, yeah, about that… Let's get business out of the way before you kill me, yeah? Otherwise you'll just end up losing profit. You serious about that business meeting tonight?"

"_Yep. But I'm warning you, Harkness- if you haven't told me what the fuck is going on before 9pm I will grab a knife from your kitchen and castrate you_."

"Ouch!" Jack winced. "Look, I'll explain it all when you're here, I promise. Though on second thoughts, it would probably be safer to tell you now then go to the pub with Owen…"

Evidently his charm was working: Gwen's laughter drifted down the line. "_Oh no you don't, Harkness- I know where you and Owen drink; and I'm not letting you rob me of the fun of chasing you round your flat with a rolling pin_."

"You see, you really are my wife!" Jack shot back with a grin. "I'll see you around 7:30, yeah?"

"_Sounds good to me. Now go and call Ianto, if you haven't already!_"

The American frowned. "Bye, Gwen." Without waiting for a reply, he put the phone down. Boy was he in trouble…

-

-

Coffee in hand, Ianto stared at the clock. 5:15pm- a bit early to start cooking. So what to do to fill in the time? Unbidden, an American accent filled his head: '_You're young, Ianto- when you've been around a little longer, you'll understand that giving away too much too soon usually ends in a tabloid exposé._' Of course, that was it! Grinning, Ianto hastened to the living room to pick up his laptop. Time to do a little research, he felt…

**-**

**-**

**-**

**A/N: So, now for the ad break. I'm offering half-price opportunities to beat some sense into the boys for anyone kind enough to review. And are you intrigued as to whom Jack's seven messages are from? I'll write a request fic (any pairing, any prompt within reason) for the first person to guess all seven correctly.**

**Next chapter will be up within 24 hours.**


	5. Wrong Numbers

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Ok, so nobody has got the messages thing right yet, though most are very close. I'll give you a hint- the callers could be any character from Torchwood or Doctor Who (I always borrow DW characters for my TW fics). Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed, I promise you things will get better very soon. As for the slight angst of the last couple of chapters, I find when reading that yes it's annoying when a writer keeps apart two characters who really should be together, but that's what keeps me reading- I have to know if things will turn out right. It's the frustration that keeps me interested; too much plain sailing can get kind of boring. So please don't kill me. =)**

**Chapter Notes- Ok, I'm not too sure about this chapter. Did I manage to capture the characters and establish relationships ok, or does it seem totally pointless?**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Wrong Numbers**

**-**

Well, that was four messages down; and now to deal with the other three. Recalling the order they were in, Jack decided to respond to them in that order (it made it easier to delete as he went along.) Dumping the juice back in the fridge and his glass in the dishwasher, Jack pressed play again.

'_You have three messages: _

'_Message 1, sent today at 11:36am: Harkness, since when does your mobile not get answered? I didn't even get that pretty blonde bit of stuff picking up; what the fuck is up with that? So- you up for the pub tonight or what? I'll be in the usual place, eight o'clock._

_Message 2, sent today at 1:38pm: Ooh look, and I get your voicemail yet again. You left some underwear at my place last week; I thought I'd be a gentleman for once and see if you want it back. I might even wash it for you, if you ask _really_ nicely. Give me a ring and let me know. Preferably late tonight, when you're naked and have chocolate sauce to hand._

_Message 3, sent today at 4:06pm: Jack Harkness, you have to save me. They have actually asked me to write a bloody celebrity interview, for crying out loud. Can you believe it? I need a drop dead gorgeous model to take me out to lunch, cheer me up about the sorry state of my career, and give me something to write about in order to keep my job. I know I ought to clear it with Gwen first, but hell, you have a brain; you can make your own decisions. So please… I'm relying on you, Captain. Give me a ring to let me know if you've got a window and if your narcissistic exhibitionist streak is still as strong._'

Ok, easy one first. Grabbing another amaretto cookie, Jack pressed speed dial 7.

"_Bloody hell, it lives!_"

Jack couldn't help but smile at the London accent which drifted down the line, foul-mouthed and sarcastic.

"I'm flattered by your concern, Owen."

"_Well of course I'm concerned, Jack. If you disappear who's going to foot the bill down the pub?_"

"I thought they actually paid you doctors in money nowadays?"

"_Well you heard wrong; in comparison to you models we get paid peanuts_."

"Well pubs usually stock peanuts so you'd probably be alright without me, Owen. As you'll have to be. I can't make it tonight; I have a business meeting with Gwen, after which she's going to kill me. So I guess this is goodbye."

"_Bastard_."

"My heart is touched by your evident concern for my safety."

"_Naturally- if you end up in A&E I get an opportunity for some overtime._"

"And how do they pay you for that- pistachios?"

"_No, cafeteria jelly_."

"So my life is worth cafeteria jelly to you? That is so sweet of you!"

"_Actually, cafeteria jelly tastes kind of sour. I have a theory that it's actually out of date sonogram gel with added food colouring._"

"And you want me to risk my life for _that_?!"

"_If it's the only way to watch Gwen beat you up with a rolling pin, yeah. It's true what they say- some spectacles in life are better than porn_."

"Owen Harper, you have no soul."

"_I know, I donated it to one of my patients._"

"I pity them."

"_Thanks. So if you can't make it tonight, I guess I'll see you at your funeral then?_"

"Yeah, sure. I'll make sure Gwen lets you know when it is."

"_Brilliant. So, you must have an hour or so to plan your funeral now, right? Make sure you make it clear that you want lots of alcohol. And no twee little cubes of cheese on sticks with tiny onions; I can't stand those._"

"Anyone would think this party is for you."

"_Well of course it is- everyone knows that funerals are not for the deceased, but for the ones they leave behind_."

"I see. Would you like me to hire a stripper as well?"

"_No, Jack. That would just be tasteless_."

"You don't say. Well, nice exchanging insults with you, but I've gotta go. I have other people to bid a final farewell to before Gwen gets here."

"_Yeah, good luck with that! See you in heaven, mate._"

"I'll look forward to it."

Jack grinned broadly as he hung up the phone. There was nothing like a healthy dose of Harper snark to put a smile on one's face in a bad situation…

-

-

The sound of the phone dragged Ianto's attention away from the article he was reading and he caught his toe in the rug as he dived towards the receiver. Cursing under his breath, he picked up and did his best not to sound like he was in pain.

"Hello?"

"_Ianto, hi. It's Gwen Cooper? I was just ringing to see if you were free on the 7__th__ of next month. There might be a concert opportunity for you in London._"

"Um, yeah, I think I'll be able to do it."

"_Great! I'll fax you over the details, and we can meet and sign contracts soon._"

"That's great!" Try as he might, Ianto could not make himself sound as enthusiastic as he should be. As usual, Gwen missed nothing.

"_Oh god, don't tell me- the useless lump hasn't called you yet._"

"I'm sorry?"

"_Jack… He hasn't called?_"

"No." Ianto felt distinctly uncomfortable discussing the matter with his PR agent, but since she had introduced them (and was providing him with financial opportunities) he felt he owed her the civility of an honest answer.

"_The big idiot. You do want him to call, right?_"

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

"_Good. Look, are you free tonight? I know he's desperate to take you out to dinner again, and I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he hasn't called. He probably put his phone in the fridge to stop himself from calling you, and it wrecked the phone and he lost your number. That would probably explain why he hasn't been answering any of my calls today; and I love him to bits but I doubt he has the intelligence to find the correct 'I Jones' in the Cardiff phonebook._"

The more Gwen rattled on, the more confused Ianto felt.

"Wait, hang on a moment, you're telling me that he actually likes me?"

"_Of course, why on earth wouldn't he? You're gorgeous, funny, intelligent and he's smitten._"

"Oh… right. So why hasn't he called?" Damn, he sounded like a little kid. And this was his PR agent he was talking to, not a friend.

"_I told you, Ianto, he has this thing about not wanting to seem desperate in front of guys he's really interested in. Why haven't _you_ called _him_?_"

"Because he's a minor celebrity and I'm just a nobody. I can't call him, it totally goes against social convention!"

For some reason, Gwen seemed to find this comment hilarious. "_Social convention?!?_" she spluttered. "_I'm sorry, Ianto, but I've never met anyone _less_ bothered by social convention than Jack._"

"He's not bothered by social convention and yet he deliberately held off calling?"

"_There's a difference between upholding social convention and not wanting to scare someone off. So anyway, you'll meet him?_"

"I'd love to."

"_Great! Ayesha's, 7:30- be there._"

"Certainly. And Gwen…"

"_Yeah?_"

"Thanks."

"_No problem, hon. That's what friends are for._" And with that she hung up.

Ianto stared at the receiver for a while, wondering what he had let himself in for. A nagging little voice in the back of his mind told him he was about to get stood up, but he quelled it firmly. If he was going to succeed in turning his life around, he needed to start believing in himself.

-

-

Ok, two messages left. Jack didn't really need to hear either of them again. Flipping through the interactive phonebook, he found the number he wanted and dialled. It would be so much easier to do this by text, but of course he couldn't because he was a stupid twat who thought it was a good idea to put a phone in the fridge. And now he was thinking like Owen- oh dear god.

"_Well hello there sexy, come to arrange a time to pick up that… underwear?_"

The silky purr elicited no other reaction from Jack but an eye-roll. "Well no, actually, I was ringing to tell you that you can keep it. Call it a parting gift, if you like."

"_A parting gift? Don't break my heart, Jack._"

"Sorry old man, I'm off the market now. Hopefully forever."

"_And I don't even get a proper goodbye?_"

"I'll mail you a bottle of chocolate sauce."

"_Gee, you're so thoughtful. So if we're back to the 'friends' thing, tell me- who's the lucky guy?_"

Jack laughed. "Nuh-uh, I'm not giving you details so you can mail arsenic to his house."

"_You're so mean sometimes_."

"_I'm_ so mean? You're the one who throws hand grenades at fragile new relationships."

"_Radiation cluster bombs. And that was one time._"

"Yeah, right. So how's rehab?"

"_Same old same old. I can't believe I let you talk me into this._"

Jack sighed. "It's for your own good, John. One day you'll believe that."

"_Yeah, yeah. And until then I get to continue being your mandatory psychotic ex, right?_"

"Mandatory?"

"_Yeah- you're a minor celebrity, Jackie boy. Every celebrity needs a psychotic ex to keep the tabloids in business._"

"Don't call me 'Jackie boy'. And it's funny, I seem to remember you're the only one of my exes who _hasn't_ sold their story to the tabloids."

"_Yeah, well; honour and all that. We didn't work as a couple, Jack, but I like it that we're still friends. Especially when there's the occasional fuck involved._"

"Yeah, well, that stops now. I really like this guy."

"_What, so you send me to rehab and you won't even let me hope? Sadistic bastard._"

"Ok, why is everyone being so complimentary today? I swear, I've heard nothing but 'sadistic bastard' and 'go to hell' all day."

"_Hey, stop stealing my sarcasm or I'll get you locked in here!_"

"You go to prison for stealing, not rehab."

"_Yeah, yeah, I know that really. That's why I always paid for the drugs._"

"Don't say that with so much pride. I worry about you, you know that."

"_Yeah, sorry. So this is it, huh? You're just ditching me and you won't even tell me who for?_"

"We can still be friends, John. I'll even let you send him a bunch of lilies sometime to keep up the psychotic ex impression. And hey, when you're clean I'll even let you meet him."

"_I'm honoured. He's that special, huh?_"

Almost without realising it, Jack smiled. "That special."

There was a pause, then John sighed. "_Then I'm happy for you, Jackie._"

"Thanks."

"_Ok, I've gotta go; you know I only get so much phone time in here and if you're dumping me I need to save my minutes for that gorgeous blonde in London that I have phone sex with._"

"I do apologise. I'll come see you again soon, maybe tell you the colour of his eyes or something."

"_Or his inside leg measurement. Don't waste your time coming to see me until you know that._"

Jack couldn't help but laugh at that. "Bye, John."

Now, if only he was as confident as his ex that he would someday be discovering Ianto's inside leg measurements…

-

-

**A/N: So, things are finally coming right for the boys. Just remember, don't shut your phone in the fridge. They don't like it.**


	6. Insufficient Time

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed, I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy!**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Insufficient Time**

-

"_Hello?_"

Jack swallowed his mouthful of amaretto cookie and grinned. "Well hello there gorgeous, this is your guardian angel calling."

"_Jack? Oh, thank god. Please tell me you're free sometime next week for an interview._"

"Your boss is gonna let you interview me as a celebrity?"

"_Jack, I write for a women's magazine. You might not have noticed, but you are obscenely attractive. No-one is going to object to any article that features a topless photo of you; and you know how much I hate having to interview real celebrities. So please, help me out here?_"

"Of course I will! Just name a date, time and place and I'll be there. You know I'd never let you down, Sarah Jane."

"_Is that because you genuinely like me, or because I flatter your ego by calling you 'Captain'?_"

"Is it ok to say both? But seriously, SJ, you're the only reporter I know who hasn't savaged my reputation- of course I like you."

He could almost feel her smile down the phone. "_Thanks. How does Thursday sound?_"

Jack swiftly flicked through the diary in front of him. "Yeah, Thursday sounds good. Book us in somewhere suitably glamorous. Oh, and tell your boss I'll pay for dinner- that should get you back in his good books."

"_Have I ever told you that I love you?_"

"Well, at least someone does."

"_What's that supposed to mean?_"

Jack sighed, reaching for another cookie. "Gwen's mad at me right now and I might have screwed up the best thing to happen to me in ages by breaking my phone."

"_Ouch. How long has it been since you last spoke?_"

"Who, me and Gwen? This afternoon."

Sarah Jane laughed. "_No, you and this guy you're worried you've lost._"

"Oh! About 43 hours."

The journalist laughed again. "_Not keeping count at all, then? Honestly, Jack, 43 hours is not a problem. It's when you get past 72 that you have to start worrying. Have you tried the phonebook? I assume the issue is you've lost his number._"

The American frowned. "Yeah, that is the issue. And I did think of the phonebook; but this is Wales and his name is 'Jones'. You do the math."

"_Ah. I see the problem. Where did you meet?_"

"Gwen set us up."

"_Then what on earth are you stressing about? Just get his number from Gwen! She can't be that mad at you, surely?_"

"Actually, she's mad at me because I haven't called yet. And also because I broke my phone. Though she doesn't know that yet."

Even this many miles away, Jack could feel the intensity of Sarah Jane's eye-roll. "_Oh, for heaven's sake! Just call her, explain the situation, and ask for his number. Easy!_"

Jack gave a half-smile. "Yeah, well. She's coming over later anyway, I'll tell her then."

"_Good. Well, I'd best go and get Luke his tea. Good luck with your guy!_"

"Thanks. Good luck with your report."

"_I'll need it. See you soon, Captain._"

"À bientôt, Miss Smith."

-

-

Tosh was midway through a Sudoku puzzle when the phone rang. Offering a silent prayer that it was, for some magical reason, her soulmate, she picked up. In the event, she wasn't all that disappointed to find that it was actually Ianto.

"So, I'm guessing he finally called then?" she gushed, preparing to bring out her 'I'm-not-jealous-at-all' act for him.

The Welshman paused a moment too long before replying. "_Well, not as such._"

"Not as such?" Tosh didn't bother hiding her confusion.

"_Gwen called with a job opportunity, and noticed I was miserable. She guessed it was because Jack hadn't called, and told me that it's only because he didn't want to seem too keen. He hasn't called yet, but apparently he's been so desperate to that he broke his phone trying to keep it out of his reach._"

"O-kay." There didn't seem to be anything else to say to that. "So do you know where you stand with him?"

"_No, not really. But Gwen's set up a dinner with him tonight, so if he shows up I'll ask him then._"

"Ianto, that's great! And stop panicking, he will show up."

"_I hope so._"

"Of course he will. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes, yeah?"

"_Will do. Have a nice night Tosh._"

"Yeah, you too. Bye, Ianto."

As she hung up, Tosh felt strangely hollow. Yes, she was delighted to see an end to Ianto's torment of the last couple of days (seriously, the Welshman worried far too much!). But now that meant two things- she wasn't needed as a marriage backup; and she wasn't needed as a shoulder to cry on. She was nothing; completely alone. Of course, it was always possible that Jack wouldn't show; but Tosh highly doubted that. Who in their right mind would let the Welshman slip through their fingers? Now she, on the other hand… the tech expert felt like she was going to be alone forever.

-

-

Rhys Williams watched his girlfriend across the room as she dialled the same number for the sixth time in half an hour. This time, someone finally picked up.

"At last!" Gwen exclaimed with an expressive eye-roll. "You have been on the phone for EVER! And why the hell don't you have a second line yet?"

"_Why are you calling me again when you're coming round in a couple of hours? And what's with the demands?_" Jack's confusion was evident.

"I'm calling you because I needed to let you know there's been a change of plans. I've been forced to postpone our business meeting and 'well-aren't-you-a-total-idiot' rolling pin chase."

"_Why?_" If anything, Jack sounded even more confused.

Gwen grinned wickedly. "Because you're dining out with Ianto tonight. Ayesha's, 7:30. Be there."

"_You called him?_" The squeak in the model's voice was far from calm and masculine.

"Yeah, I had to notify him of a possible job, and I noticed he sounded upset. Didn't take a genius to work out that it was because you hadn't called him. Just like it didn't take a genius to figure out you put your phone in the fridge and broke it again."

"_You didn't tell him that, did you?_" the American's tones were laced with suspicion.

The Welshwoman chuckled. "What kind of friend do you think I am? I told him that I knew you did want to see him again, and suggested a time and place for you to meet. He seemed suitably eager, so what are you waiting for? Hang up and get dressed! You don't want to be late!"

Even down the phone she could hear the glare in Jack's reply. "_I can't believe you only gave me an hour to get ready!_"

She laughed. "I would have given you longer, but I couldn't bloody get through, could I? And now every second is precious, so get moving! Call me tomorrow and let me know how it went."

"_Will do._"

Gwen smiled to herself as she hung up the phone. "Do you know, he didn't even say goodbye. Or thank you," she pouted to her boyfriend. Rhys laughed.

"Gwen, this is _Jack_ we're talking about. You only gave him an hour to get ready, he didn't have the time."

She treated him to the gap-toothed grin which she loved. "Yeah, I know."

"So if you're not meeting Jack, does that mean you're free to have dinner with me tonight?" the Welshman asked hopefully.

Gwen shrugged. "Well, I was going to meet Owen down the pub at eight if I wasn't seeing Jack. You could come if you like? Spend some time with the normal people."

Rhys laughed. "This from the woman who spends all her days rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous?"

She smiled. "You know you're all the wealth and fame I need. So, you gonna cook me dinner or what?"

-

-

Ianto was halfway through trying to decide which suit to wear when the phone rang. Cursing, he dropped the hanger on the bed and made a dash for the lounge.

"Hello?" he panted, hoping that he didn't sound too breathless.

"_Ianto? It's Jack. Sorry I didn't call earlier, I was an idiot, I guess. Anyway, my best friend just informed me that she's set us up a date tonight; so I was just ringing to check that you're still up for it._"

"Yeah, definitely. Why, aren't you?" Try as he might, Ianto couldn't quite manage to hold back all his insecurity.

"_Hell yes! So I'll see you in Ayesha's at 7:30 then?_"

Ianto beamed. "Definitely."

"_Brilliant, I'm looking forward to it. Oh, and wear a suit. You look good in a suit._"

"Thanks. Any colour preferences?"

"_As long as it's a suit, I don't care. I might start demanding specific colours when you've introduced me to the inside of your wardrobe, but tonight all I care about is that you're there._"

"I will be. Though I have to tell you, Jack… I prefer the bed."

Ianto's heart lifted immeasurably as his ears were treated to a rich, deep chuckle.

"_Know what? So do I. Wardrobes have too many shelves to be comfortable. But we can talk about all this after dinner; right now I need to go and put some clothes on._"

The Welshman laughed. "That might be a good idea. I mean, I wouldn't mind if you walked in naked, but I don't think the restaurant would like it."

"_No, I don't think they would. See you soon, Ianto._"

"I'm looking forward to it, Jack."

As he hung up, Ianto grinned widely. Thank god for proactive PR agents with the sense to pass on important messages and phone numbers! Then his eye settled on the clock, and he gulped. Only forty-five minutes to finish getting ready…

-

-

**A/N: 'À bientôt' = 'see you soon'**


	7. Second Chances

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Sorry about the delay in posting, I've been having some trouble with my Document Manager. I hope this was worth the wait! For Ianto's appearance, think 'Sleeper'. For Jack's, think JB on 'Tonight's The Night'. A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, story alerted or favourited- it means so much to me that you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.**

**Chapter Notes- I'm not sure how much I like this chapter, so I would really love to know what you think of it.**

-

-

-

**Second Chances**

-

As he stepped into the restaurant at twenty-five minutes past seven, Ianto felt his throat constrict. Despite the phone call, a tiny part of him still expected that Jack wouldn't show. Also, it was a _very_ upmarket establishment; one he had never been to because he had never been lucky enough to possess that kind of money. To cap it all, he had no idea what name Gwen had made the booking under. Would she have automatically put it under her own name, or had she remembered to use his or Jack's? If so, whose?

"Alright, calm down, Jones, you can figure this out," he muttered to himself as the hostess greeted the couple in front. Gwen was a PR agent- she must book restaurants under other people's names all the time. It was unlikely then that she had used her name. Also, Ianto was a new client, and Jack apparently was her best friend. And thinking about it, why book a restaurant under the name of 'Jones' in Wales when the other party went by the name of Harkness? It would have created so many unnecessary problems.

"Good evening Sir, how may I help you?" the hostess beamed at him, and the Welshman gathered his nerves, told himself firmly that it was ok to be here, and smiled back.

"Um, yes, hello. There's a table booked, I think- name of Harkness?"

It was evident that the hostess sensed his nervousness, but she did not comment, instead turning to the glossy white leather ledger on the podium in front of her.

"Ah yes; table for two at seven thirty?"

"That's the one," Ianto agreed, and she smiled.

"Would you prefer to wait for the other party at the bar or at your table, sir?"

"Um, at the bar, please." Ianto made a snap decision. If Jack did stand him up, he'd look less conspicuous at the bar.

Seven thirty came and went, and with every passing second he felt his nerves increase. He'd been right- Jack was going to stand him up. He sipped his pint and tried not to look too abandoned, although he couldn't resist sneaking another glance at his watch. Seven thirty-nine. How long did one wait before one gave up on a date?

---

As the antique cuckoo clock in the lounge chimed the half-hour, Jack cursed. Damn it, why had Gwen only given him an hour to get ready? She _knew_ he took longer than even she did before a night out! Lacing up his shoes in a regrettably slipshod manner, he grabbed his wallet and keys and tucked them into his jacket pockets. With one last glance around the apartment to check that he hadn't forgotten anything, he headed for the door and made a dash for the elevator, not daring to glance at his watch. He was going to be horrifically (if characteristically) late. As his frustratingly slow journey downwards continued, the American offered a silent prayer to whatever gods might happen to be listening that Ianto did not give up and go home. Still, at least he had the Welshman's number now, so he could send a text and let him know. Grinning at the realisation, Jack reached for his mobile… Only to discover that it wasn't there. Oh, of course not. It was bloody broken because he'd put it in the fucking fridge again, wasn't it? The American growled in frustration as he exited the lift, startling the couple waiting to step in.

-

Once outside the building, Jack dared a second glance at his watch. Twenty-five to eight. Dear god, there had better be a taxi near! Not for the first time, the model briefly contemplated hiring a driver. Of course, he could always take the SUV, but there was never anywhere to park up near Ayesha's. It ought to be quicker to get a taxi…

For once, luck was on Jack's side and he managed to flag down a vacant vehicle almost immediately. Breathing a sigh of mingled relief and stress, he relaxed back on the seat, gave the driver the address and promptly fished out the money, ready to throw it and run. Now, if only his luck held and he arrived before Ianto left…

---

Quarter to eight. Of course, why had he even expected Jack to show? Biting his lip hard to stop a sudden show of emotion, the Welshman pulled out his mobile to text Tosh his misery. However, he was immediately greeted with the 'You have one new text message' screen. Curious, he opened the message. From Gwen, sent at twenty-five past seven: '_Forgot 2 tell U- Jack is L8 4 EVERYTHING so don't panic 2 much, he will come xxx_'

"If I ever get him into bed, I'll make damn sure of that…" Ianto muttered to himself, feeling a sudden flash of hope. Maybe this date wasn't a lost cause after all.

---

"Oh my god, Ianto, I am _so_ sorry!" The loud American accent drew Ianto abruptly from his daydream and back into the present, drawing his attention to the whirlwind in the shimmering blue suit and flattering black shirt who made his breath catch in his throat.

Grinning at his date with what he hoped was not _too_ much relief, Ianto did his level best not to stutter as he responded.

"Don't worry about it, Jack; apparently by your standards you're early," he teased, and the American pouted.

"Ok, seriously, one of these days we need to sit down and go through exactly what Gwen has told you about me, because I bet half of it is lies."

"Now why would she lie to me?" Ianto enquired innocently, hopping down from his bar stool. "Shall we see if they held our table?"

Jack made no reply, transfixed by the Welshman's apparel. The simple, classic dark suit fitted him like a glove. The tie was incredibly tasteful, and matched perfectly. And as for the shirt… Well, there was just no other way to say it. Red absolutely _was_ Ianto's colour.

It was also the colour of his face as the violinist flushed under the American's scrutiny.

"Um, Jack?" he prompted, flattered by the attention but more than a little uncomfortable with it.

"Oh, yeah, right…" The model drew his eyes back up to Ianto's face and grinned. "They will have held our table," he asserted confidently. "They know me."

"So you admit then that it's all true?" the Welshman teased as he followed his companion back to the hostess' station.

"I'm not usually _this_ late," Jack assured him. "But Gwen didn't exactly give me sufficient time to get ready."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Jack, I told you, you could have come in your underpants and I wouldn't have cared."

"Yeah, well I would!" the hostess interjected, the supremely polite façade with which she had greeted Ianto gone in the light of Jack's appearance.

"Hush, Nancy, you know you have my Calvin Klein ads taped to your fridge!" Jack retorted with a cheeky grin.

"That's not to say I want to lose my job over letting you in here inappropriately dressed," she shot back, picking up two menus and gliding in the direction of a table.

"And as I keep telling you, if you lose your job in here you can come work for me; you can be my PA's companion or something. She'd like you; I must bring her to lunch here sometime."

"That might be cool," Nancy beamed as she laid the menus carefully on the table. "Enjoy your meal, gentlemen. Carys will be along in a moment to take your drinks order."

"Thanks Nancy; give me a call if you reconsider," Jack grinned back, slipping her a fiver concealed in a handshake. She smiled again and disappeared; and the couple moved to sit down.

-

It was a beautifully private and select table right in a secluded corner, and Ianto secretly wondered if Gwen had had to pull any strings to get it, or if the simple mention of Jack's name did the trick.

"You have a PA?" he asked incredulously as he picked up his menu, and Jack nodded.

"Yeah. Rose, lovely girl; a bit cheeky sometimes but she has this amazing spark and she's one half of the team of women who keep me sane."

"The other half being Gwen?" Ianto guessed hopefully.

"Yep. But that's all work, and-" The end of Jack's sentence went missing as the table was approached by another beautifully elegant waitress.

"Jack, I didn't know you were in tonight!" she beamed, and that confident, easy grin was back on the American's face in an instant.

"Oh, you only like me because I tip well, Carys," he teased, and she laughed.

"Hey, I get to wait on a supermodel, that's tips enough all by itself."

"Yeah, yeah, less of the super. It's just a job. A bit like waitressing, but for the lazy."

"I don't believe you; it's gotta take some motivation to keep in such good shape- I know you don't stay looking that hot through dieting."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm only saying; I've served you enough times to know that six legions of cavalry would not be enough to keep you away from dessert."

"Ah, but you see, Carys, I get my necessary exercise from fighting off the six legions to get at the vanilla cheesecake."

"And it's all ready in the fridge waiting, sir, but can I get you a drink first?" With one final cheeky grin the banter was over and business began.

-

Throughout the exchange, Ianto had been lost in his own thoughts, listening to the banter with half an ear whilst carrying on a heated debate with his worrying gene. Yes, he was over the moon that Jack actually had shown up; and also highly disbelieving that someone so good looking and even moderately famous could be out on a date with _him_. But all that was eclipsed by the worrying gene's sudden panic: 'I just assumed he was gay when he started flirting with me. What if he's actually bi, and he's slept with all these girls? Am I being a total fool thinking he'd be interested in me?' 'Probably,' his negative side whispered back, and he bit the inside of his lip again whilst in the background the waitress asked Jack what he would like to drink.

It came almost as a shock to find that Jack deferred to him, waving a hand in his general direction to indicate that Ianto should choose first.

"Um, pint of cobra?" He was relieved to note that even in the most upmarket of Indian restaurants, the selection of basic beers remained the same.

"Make that two," Jack added, and Carys nodded.

"Certainly, sir. Can I get you any poppadoms whilst you're looking at the menu?"

This time, the American did not even consult the Welshman before replying. "You know damn well that you can, Carys- two should be sufficient, I think."

"With extra raita, of course," the waitress grinned, making a note on her pad and then disappearing, leaving the two men alone once more.

-

"So, I'm guessing you're a regular then?" Ianto guessed glibly, and the American grinned.

"Gee, how did you ever figure that one out?" he responded. "Was it the fact that all the waitresses shamelessly flirt with me in a totally unprofessional manner; the way they all know what I do for a living; or the fact that they can deliver my dessert order to the kitchen within thirty seconds of the table being booked?"

"No, your painfully evident worry about keeping up appearances," Ianto deadpanned.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. But Gwen did warn you that punctuality isn't my strong suit, right?"

Ianto smiled. "Yep, she warned me. But she didn't think to tell you that I'm neurotically early for everything?"

"Nope." Jack frowned. "Ok, from now on, when we arrange dates we'll have to tell you 'quarter to eight' and me 'quarter past seven'; and that way there's a chance we might end up in the same place at the same time."

"So there will be other dates?" Ianto asked, hope surging through him, though not quite enough to drown out his doubts about the waitresses.

"I hope so," Jack responded with a grin. "You have a pretty damn sexy DVD collection, Ianto Jones; and it's gonna take me more than one dinner to intimately explore your CD collection and the contents of your bookshelves."

"Play your cards right, and I might even let you see them first hand," Ianto murmured back.

Jack's grin widened. "Oh yeah, and that's the other thing- I seem to remember you promising to drag me into bed at some point after dinner: I'm looking forward to it. But life has made me cynical and cautious, and I don't sleep with guys before the seventh date. So yeah, there will be other dates, if you intend to keep that promise."

Ianto was thrown. Ok, so it wasn't in his character to sleep with guys on the first date, but still- there was so much chemistry between he and Jack that the Welshman had kind of expected them to be falling into bed sooner rather than later.

"Th-the seventh date?" he stuttered, and Jack nodded.

"That's not a problem, is it?"

-

Before Ianto could reply, two pints of Cobra appeared on the table, accompanied by a plate of poppadoms and a tray of chutneys. The ensemble was completed by Carys' charismatic smile.

"Are you ready to order yet?" she enquired, and Ianto realised that he had not even thought to look at the menu.

"Could you give us a minute? Thanks, Carys." Jack dismissed the waitress with a disarming smile, then turned to Ianto.

"So, how are we doing this? I always find that the best way to do Indian is to order a selection to share."

"Um, sure." Ianto agreed; it was how he and Tosh usually dealt with takeaways. Not that they ate Indian all that often; they preferred Chinese or pizza, when they could afford it.

Jack smiled, as if sensing how lost Ianto felt amongst the myriad of options offered in the menu.

"So, do you have any particular preferences or do you trust me to order?"

"I trust you," the Welshman replied promptly, relieved that he would not have to try to get his head round the menu. It would be difficult enough at the best of times, never mind when there was an incredibly sexy American sat across the table from him. An incredibly sexy American who apparently was unwilling to take Ianto to his bed until the seventh date. Ianto had never waited that long for anything before.

"So, um, about that seventh date thing?" He had to ask.

Jack looked up from the menu with a frown. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No!" Ianto reassured him hurriedly. "But it just seems like an awfully long time." (What was he saying?! It was totally unlike him to be this forward. But that was the odd thing about Jack- in the American's presence Ianto kept coming out with comments that usually he would never have dreamed of uttering aloud.)

"Yeah, well," Jack shrugged. "It's a way of sorting the humans from the gannets. I figure that seven dates takes what, two or three weeks? That's usually long enough to shake off the ones who are only interested in a one night stand or some quick cash from selling their story to the tabloids."

"And you think I'm like that?" Ianto was hurt by the implication.

"No!" Jack's reply was instant. "I don't think you're like that at all, Ianto." He smiled seductively, leaning over the table to murmur in the Welshman's ear: "But the anticipation heats it up like you wouldn't believe."

Rendered speechless for a second, all Ianto felt capable of doing was raising one eyebrow as Jack sat back and smiled lasciviously at him.

"Trust me, it's worth it," he assured as he helped himself to poppadom and mango chutney. Still slightly dazed from the intense snatch of Jack's intoxicating aftershave, Ianto followed suit. Dear god, he was out of his depth here!

"Oh, I believe you," he commented drily. "But please, next time we go out- don't wear that aftershave."

"Hmm?" Jack looked confused. "Never wear any."

"You smell like that naturally?!" Ianto was so astonished he didn't even notice mango chutney dribbling onto his fingers.

"It would seem so," the American responded equally drily, then Jack grinned. "You gonna eat that before the plate gets dive-bombed?"

"Oh, right, yeah." Feeling even more of a fool, Ianto popped the morsel he was holding into his mouth; then neatly sucked the chutney off the fingers that had been attacked. Across the table, Jack bit back a groan with difficulty. It was going to be a long seven dates.


	8. Vanilla Cheesecake

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- My wardrobe is slowly drowning in colourful post-it notes with ideas for this fic, but it took a painfully long time to get this chapter written and I don't know how happy I am with it. But anyway, hope you enjoy! (And if you don't get the vanilla cheesecake, Wikipedia is your friend.) Also, this is Jack and Ianto, on a date. I don't think I need to warn you to watch out for the innuendo.**

**Chapter Notes- This chapter is dedicated to all my lovely reviewers, in particular Amethystbutterflys, who planted the idea for the final scene in my head. Thank you all so much, I don't think I'd have got this far without your kind words, support and encouragement.**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Vanilla Cheesecake**

-

"…And after that, I never dared to visit that dry cleaner's again!"

A certain length of still mildly stunned time later, Ianto realised that he had found a reason to appreciate the 'seven date rule': he did not have to worry about what would happen at the end of the night. And without all the uncertainty and worry about performance and were his sheets sufficiently clean, he found that he could just relax, be himself, and enjoy spending time with Jack. Enjoyable time it was indeed: the American was lively, confident, loud and vivacious, the kind of man who just had a Presence. Ianto privately suspected that it was more his Presence than his looks that made him quite such a good model. And talking of modelling…

"Hey, I'm sorry to bring work up over dinner; but I've got an interview next Thursday and I need to clear one or two topics." Jack's tones were businesslike, with just a tinge of regret.

Ianto shrugged. "It's ok, one of the downsides of dating the rich and famous, I suppose."

The American winced. "I'm not famous," he denied glibly. "And I'm not all that rich either." This assertion was to backfire spectacularly on him later; in the present it merely drew a disbelieving eyebrow raise from Ianto before the Welshman turned the topic back to work.

"So- you wanted to clear some topics?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah; they're bound to want to know about my love life. So what do I tell them?"

"That you have one?" the penniless and decidedly un-famous violinist didn't really see the issue.

"Ok, another thing to add to my list of discoveries: Ianto Jones is sarcastic." Jack pretended to write in the air with his knife, eliciting a twenty-four carat eye-roll from the Welshman.

"It's taken you this long to work that out?"

"Nah, I knew from the moment an elf stole my tequila sunrise."

"I confess, it was a terrible extrajudicial punishment to mete out."

"A little early to be talking about punishment isn't it Mr Jones?"

"True, I vote we postpone any discussion of punishment until after the seventh date. Why _seventh_, precisely, by the way?"

Jack shrugged. "Seven's my lucky number. So, what should I tell _Kahlua_ about my love life on Thursday?"

"_Kahlua_? You're being interviewed by a liqueur; or is that just the poor girl's name?"

It was Jack's turn to roll his eyes. "Idiot! _Kahlua_'s the magazine; the interviewer is Sarah Jane Smith. A human being."

"Oh, I see. What do you want to tell her?"

The American pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Difficult to tell on the second date. I'd like to announce that I'm with someone, whom I have a great time with and like very very much. I guess the issue is, do I tell SJ that I'm with one Ianto Jones, incredibly sexy Welsh violinist; or do I leave your name out and just tell her that I'm with a drop dead gorgeous male of the species?"

Ianto considered for a moment. "Well, all things considered, taking account everything I've learned from the first date and a half… I think you should tell them that unless they happen to be a vanilla cheesecake or a white chocolate mousse, they don't stand a chance."

Jack's laughter lit up the room. "Did I tell you that I like you a _lot_, Mr Jones?"

"It might have fallen into the conversation somewhere," Ianto deadpanned. "I like you a lot too, Jack; but like I told you last Thursday, I hate publicity. So if you could keep my name out of it, that would be great."

"Consider it done. Though whilst we're on the subject of dessert…" Jack cast an eye over the empty plates. Ianto groaned.

"I couldn't eat another bite. But don't worry, I won't rob you of your vanilla cheesecake- I know it's in the fridge sitting and waiting for you."

"Ten out of ten for eavesdropping on the waitresses."

Ianto grinned. "Ok, another thing to add to my list of discoveries: Jack Harkness has a cheeky streak."

"It's taken you this long to work that out?"

"No, I realised when you objectified Gwen's introduction."

"I confess, it was a terribly cheesy way to greet a new acquaintance."

"I'm not sure cheesy is the right word there, Captain."

Jack's expression snagged somewhere between a laugh and a frown. "Where are you getting 'Captain' from?"

"Your assertive confidence, and the fact that it's clear that you're the captain of innuendo. Why, does it matter?"

The American chuckled. "Not especially; but it's a weirdly common nickname for me."

Ianto grinned. "Damn, I'll have to be more original. So who else calls you Captain?"

"Too many people to list in the time it'll take Carys to clear the table." Jack shot a dazzling grin at the pretty Welsh lass approaching the table.

"You know, I generally find stopwatches more effective for timing things," Ianto murmured, invoking a rich, deep chuckle from his companion.

"Was everything all right for you, gentlemen?" Carys enquired as she began to stack plates, all smiles and politeness.

"Perfection," Jack beamed, and Ianto nodded in agreement.

"It was lovely, thank you."

"Excellent. Can I bring you any dessert?" She addressed her question to Ianto, waving Jack away impatiently when the American opened his mouth. "No, not you! I _know_ _you_ want vanilla cheesecake."

Suitably chastised, Jack subsided with a grin whilst Ianto smiled as Carys. "I'm much too full for dessert, but I would love an espresso if that's possible."

Carys grinned back. "Of course. Hmm, no dessert- he's either gonna love you or hate you, I can't decide which."

"He's going to love me; it's impossible not to," the Welshman deadpanned, then leaned closer to murmured in Carys' ear suitably loudly so Jack could still hear: "That's code for 'I've got lemon meringue pie at home', by the way."

Ianto didn't know whether it was his statement or Jack's pout, but Carys' laughter was loud enough to attract a few stares and bring Nancy over from the next table.

"I hate you," the American muttered, shooting the Welshman a mock pissy look. Carys' grin widened.

"Marry me," she begged Ianto, who chuckled.

"Well he apparently hates me, so yes, I will."

"Sometimes I miss being a waitress," Nancy pouted as she caught the end of the exchange. Ianto beamed at her.

"Want to be a bridesmaid?"

"Ooh, definitely!"

Jack grinned. "No, Nancy, you can be my bride; Ianto here has rejected me," he sniffed dramatically.

The hostess laughed. "Ok then. Wow, so what this party really needs is cheesecake!"

"And espresso," Carys added with a grin, winking at Ianto.

"Well, hop to it, ladies; the quicker we're all married, the sooner I get to stop tipping you," Jack teased, inciting squeals of protest as the two girls picked up the last of the dishes and scarpered. The American looked impressed.

"Wow, one meal and you've already won over Nancy and Carys. That took me three months!"

Ianto grinned. "Well, what can I say? I apparently have boundless wit and charm."

"Hey, that's my line!"

"Sincerest apologies; are you going to sue me for theft of your intellectual property?"

"Under normal circumstances I would, but my intellectual property isn't really worth stealing at the moment."

"Is that code for 'cheesecake has wiped out too many of my brain cells'?"

Truth be told, Jack's intellectual property had shifted somewhat further south when Ianto had accompanied his apologies with a nimble foot running up the American's calf. However, the model opted not to mention this, instead nodding.

"Something like that. Though really, I think it was the tequila sunrise that did the real damage."

"Hmm, that is a pretty gruelling episode. Not quite as epic as 'The Burning' though."

Rolling his eyes, Jack reached below the table and gently but firmly removed Ianto's foot- it was far too distracting when he was trying to carry on a conversation. And to not sleep with the Welshman until the seventh date.

"You could be right there- it might be down to the addiction to bad TV."

"Better an addiction to bad TV than badass drugs," Ianto deadpanned.

The smile froze on the American's face, and Ianto winced.

"Damn, did I just put my foot in it?"

Jack shook his head to clear it, but his response died on his lips as Carys returned with one espresso and one large plate of vanilla cheesecake.

"Carys Fletcher, you are a goddess," Jack beamed, and she grinned.

"You know I only do it for the tips, Jack."

"I'm sorry, I have cheesecake- what tips?"

The waitress laughed. "You won't hear a peep out of him for the next ten minutes," she murmured to Ianto; and the Welshman forced a smile before she disappeared, still wondering as to the reason for that expression on Jack's face. Once Carys was out of earshot, he observed his date cautiously.

"Dare I ask?" he ventured, and Jack sighed.

"My oldest friend is in rehab," he answered frankly.

"I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." Ianto found old habits coming back at an alarming rate as he folded in on himself, cursing the loosening of his tongue which always seemed to miraculously occur in Jack's presence.

"Hey, it's ok, you weren't to know." Jack sensed the changes and reached out over the table to grasp Ianto's right hand in his left. (His own right hand did not pause in its methodical journey between cheesecake and mouth- not even the sobering mention of John was enough to put him off dessert.)

"Do you want to talk about it?" Comforted by Jack's selfless sacrifice of one hand, Ianto tried to find the right words to erase his mistake.

With a soft smile, the American shook his head. "Maybe some other time; I don't want to spoil the moment tonight. John is not a suitable topic to discuss over cheesecake."

Although his grin was a little weak, Ianto found his confidence returning. "Is there a good topic to discuss over cheesecake?"

Jack laughed. "Nope. Cheesecake is best enjoyed in blissful silence… with attractive company." Smiling seductively, he held his loaded spoon out towards Ianto. The Welshman shook his head.

"No, I can't, I'm far too full."

"Go on," Jack wheedled, moving the spoon closer. "One bite won't kill you."

Determinedly, Ianto shook his head again. "I can't take your cheesecake; you're a dessertaholic! So yes, it might kill me."

Jack grinned, knowing just how to 'kill' Ianto in a manner which would persuade him to take the cheesecake.

"If you don't humour me, I'll make you wait 'til the eighth date."

"Careful, good sir, that's blackmail," Ianto deadpanned.

"And don't you know it…" Jack grinned lasciviously.

"Fine," Ianto relented, allowing Jack to feed him the tasty morsel. As the flavour embraced his tongue, his eyes widened and he could not suppress a moan which went straight to a certain part of Jack's body.

"Mm, that is amazing! I can't believe you would actually share a cheesecake that good!"

The American grinned. "Believe me, Mr Jones, it's a high honour indeed."

"So I imagine." No cheesecake on the planet, however good, would be sufficient to rob Ianto of his dry retorts.

"It's an honour I may grow to regret," Jack continued as he stared at his disappointingly empty plate.

"You're a big boy, you'll get over it. It's only vanilla cheesecake."

He might be a bad actor but, queen or no queen, Jack was beyond any doubt the king of hammy gestures. His theatrical gasp in response to Ianto's comment would have slain critics in the aisle.

"I can't believe you would say that!"

Ianto laughed. "I have to say, from what I read about you in the tabloids when I was mad, I wouldn't have pegged you for a vanilla guy."

One day, Jack would question what exactly Ianto had read and why he had read it in the first place. At that precise moment, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"In the phrase 'vanilla cheesecake', it's _vanilla_ you take issue with?"

The Welshman smirked. "Well 'vanilla beefcake' just doesn't have the same ring to it. And I don't think it would taste very good."

Jack returned Ianto's smirk in kind. "Well wait until the seventh date and you'll find out."

Damn, that bloody seventh date thing again! Ianto was milliseconds away from a witty repartee when Carys returned with the bill and business took precedence over pleasure.

-

Ten minutes later, Jack and Ianto stood outside the restaurant, full and happy, leaving two very charmed young Welsh waitresses behind them.

"Such a pity we're gay…" the Welshman mused mock-regretfully as he treated the pair to one final smile and wave.

"Is it?" Jack enquired, slipping his arm through Ianto's and leading the violinist away from the restaurant and down towards the bay.

"Well, look at them!" Ianto reasoned. "You can't deny that they're hot."

The American's only answer was to raise an eyebrow.

"I'm gay, not blind," Ianto defended himself. Jack chuckled.

"Yeah, well, I'm happy with things as they are thanks. Give me a choice between two hot young Welsh waitresses and one Ianto Jones? I'd choose you any day."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ianto was flattered, and struck by another burst of amazement that the moderately famous, drop dead gorgeous Jack Harkness might actually want to be with him. The silver-blue moonlight gave mystical highlights to his date's hair, and he found himself laughing as they passed the water tower on Roald Dahl Plass.

"You know, Jack Harkness, I get the feeling that you might just be a closet romantic."

The American laughed, seizing Ianto's waist with his free hand and spinning the Welshman round.

"Amen to that."

As he found himself being whirled manically round the plass by the bay in the winter moonlight by the most dashing, charismatic, attractive and spontaneous man he had ever met, Ianto decided that it was the perfect end to an almost perfect date.


	9. Moonlight Kisses

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Ok, so this is short and sweet; but the last couple of chapters have been longer than normal anyway. Hopefully the length won't deter from your enjoyment. This one's for TracyLynn- I hope her demands have been suitably met. Enjoy, and thanks again for reading and reviewing!**

**Chapter Notes- Where I reference 'the classic Hollywood kiss', think a slightly less chaste version of the one between Carrie and Jack in 'Hop, Skip and a Week' of Sex and the City, Season 6.**

-

-

-

**Moonlight Kisses**

**-**

"Where to now?" Ianto enquired, breathless, as he leaned on the railings overlooking the bay.

Jack grinned and checked his watch. "You surely can't have the energy to go clubbing after a meal like that?" he teased. "You couldn't even manage cheesecake!"

Ianto smirked. "The vanilla put me off."

"Is that so?" Without any warning, Jack grabbed the Welshman by the waist and dipped him into the classic Hollywood kiss, doing something wicked with his tongue that had the violinist moaning into the model's mouth. Both were flushed and breathless when Jack finally let Ianto up for air.

"So… Vanilla, am I?" the American enquired with a smirk.

Ianto answered with a smirk of his own. "Not bad. But classic Hollywood hardly borders on the avant-garde."

Jack was not sure whether to be intrigued or insulted. "So it's the avant-garde you're looking for, hmm? I didn't notice the orange handkerchief."

"I thought it would clash with the shirt."

"Ooh, tricky dilemma! I have to say, Mr Jones, the shirt looks very good on you."

"If you follow that up with a line about how it would look better on your bedroom floor, I'm out of here."

The American chuckled. "When your name's been in the press a few times, start counting the number of cheesy chat-up lines that get spun on you and you'll quickly learn to hide from the type of people that use them."

"Is that so?" Ianto smirked. "Hello, I'm a thief and I'm here to steal your heart."

Jack looked incredulous. "And _you're_ calling _me_ cheesy?!"

The Welshman chuckled. "No, actually, you were the one who called you cheesy. I said you picked the wrong word."

"And what might the right word be?"

Ianto considered. "Hmm, arrogant; egotistical… bloody hopeful?"

The American pouted. "Oh, just shut up and kiss me already!"

Grinning, Ianto slipped his arms round the model's neck and obliged, fluttering tantalising closed mouthed butterfly kisses on Jack's lips, making him moan in frustration.

"There's a time and a place for that kind of kiss, Mr Jones, and it is neither now or my lips."

Without waiting for a reply, he pulled the Welshman flush against him and kissed him hotly, sweeping the tip of his tongue over Ianto's lips to beg entrance. The violinist's mouth obeyed without consulting his brain, lost in the exquisite sensations of the American's tongue forcefully exploring. All too soon, he pulled away regretfully.

"There's a time and a place for that kind of kiss, Mr Harkness, and it's five dates from now and behind closed doors, where we can't be arrested."

"Kissing in public isn't prohibited under Welsh law," the American pointed out with another pout.

"No, but what I will end up doing to you if you continue kissing me like that _is_," Ianto retorted with a grin, kissing away the pout tenderly.

"Promises, promises…" Jack grinned when they broke apart. "I suppose I'd better get you a cab then."

"That might be a good way to avoid arrest for indecent exposure."

"I'll bear that in mind for next time I'm tempted to strip in public."

Ianto chuckled. "Do you count a photographer's studio as public?"

Jack considered. "Insofar as any workplace is."

The Welshman laughed. "In which case, you're fully planning to strip in public next month then?" he asked innocently.

The American rolled his eyes. "When I'm modelling underwear, Ianto, I'm not indecently exposing myself."

"I suppose not; but you are corrupting the minds of millions of teenage girls and probably a few thousand teenage boys," Ianto returned.

"You speak as if from experience," Jack smirked back.

"I refuse to respond on the grounds that I might incriminate myself. But I was not responsible for _all_ the magazine cut-outs wallpapering my student digs."

The American chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "I was your student wallpaper? Ah well, better than being the frontispiece of the cheesecake fridge, I guess."

"Indeed..." Ianto leant closer, so that his lips were almost brushing Jack's earlobe as he murmured huskily: "Because I have a feeling that you are everything _but_ vanilla, Captain Harkness..."

The model leapt back as if he had been electrocuted. "Taxi!"

"Damn, that's effective," Ianto grinned wickedly, slipping his hand into Jack's as the pair headed back for the road.

The American made no reply. It was going to be a long seven dates.


	10. WakeUp Calls

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Sorry about the slight delay, this chapter was painful to write. (Literally- my glasses were trying to kill my nose, but I can't write without them.) Much love to my reviewers, hope you enjoy!**

**Post-It Count: 22**

-

-

-

**Wake Up Calls**

**-**

Hot lips traced along his collarbone, cheeky teeth nipping playfully then giving way to gentle strokes of a soothing tongue. He moaned deeply, fingers carding through soft dark hair as the tantalising lips made their way back to his and began a siege of his willing mouth. All too soon the lips moved away, sliding luxuriously slowly over his torso, pausing to allow an exploratory tongue to dip into his navel, making him keen in pleasure. He felt soft lips smile against the skin of his waist whilst feather-light fingertips skimmed down his sides, heading for where he wanted them most. He sighed in satisfaction, arching into the touch…

And then a shrill wail assaulted his senses and he jumped, the pleasant caresses melting away as he sat up, bleary eyed. It was morning, and the phone was ringing.

"What?" he demanded grumpily, not even bothering to see who the caller was. There was not a single person in his life he could quickly forgive for waking him at such a crucial point in his dream and leaving him with a raging hard-on whilst he was forced to converse with them.

"_Now that's no way to greet an old friend!_" a bright voice chided, and his scowl faded slightly.

"You're not my friend right now- you ruined my dream," he groused, closing his eyes and trying hard to think of his grandmother.

"_Sex dreams on a Sunday? Oh, the depravity! For a nicely brought up Catholic boy I do declare you're quite the sinner, Ianto Jones._"

"Says the woman illegally feeding sweets to her six-year-olds."

"_Hey, don't knock bribery; it can get you anywhere!_"

Despite his annoyance, the Welshman chuckled. "Ok, so what do I need to buy to persuade you to piss off for half an hour whilst I sort this out?"

The reply was instant. "_A train ticket to London. I haven't seen you in forever!_"

"I might have known… Ok, I'll see what I can do. It's not as if I'm inundated with jobs at the moment."

"_Fabulous, let me know when you'll be coming and I'll lay on a welcome committee. For now, call me back when you're in the right frame of mind to converse with a mere woman._"

"Will do."

Hanging up the phone, Ianto sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Was he going to have to begin every day with a cold shower? Growling in frustration, the Welshman hauled himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

-

One cold shower later, his brainpower had relocated north and Ianto had the mental capacity to process the short but sweet phone call which had interrupted his dream. Snippets of conversations from the past few days floated around his head as he made coffee, and one by one the pieces began to fall into place:

'_A train ticket to London. I haven't seen you in forever!_'

'_I'm sorry to bring up work over dinner, but I've got an interview next Thursday..._'

'_Idiot! Kahlua's the magazine…_'

Now, he was no expert on women's magazines, but the Welshman was fairly sure that if such a magazine existed with its base in Cardiff, he would know about it. No, women's magazines were all about the fashion; and in the UK the fashion capital was London. Which meant that in all likelihood, a certain American model would be heading in that direction in a few days' time. Yes, a Thursday wasn't exactly ideal, but Ianto couldn't _afford_ a train ticket to London. If he could cadge a lift with Jack and have the travel expenses charged to Gwen, so much the better. It wasn't exactly ethical, he knew, but until his PR agent pulled out a few more stops and lined him up some more concerts, he simply did not have the cash to worry about ethics. Or to fund dates, for that matter, which was slightly worrying since it must surely be his turn next time- Jack had insisted on paying for the meal the night before despite having funded their first date too. Suddenly, an idea occurred to the Welshman, and he smiled. He knew exactly what he and Jack would be doing on their next date.

-

-

Halfway across the city, the aforementioned certain American model was halfway through his first industrial strength coffee of the day when the phone rang.

"Hello?" Skilfully balancing the phone between his chin and shoulder, Jack simultaneously muted his music and rescued his toast from premature cremation.

"_You mentioned last night that you have an interview in London next week, didn't you?_"

"Jesus, Gwen, you didn't tell me you were having a sex change operation!" the American responded sarcastically, the direct approach reminding him strongly of his best friend.

"_Sorry love, I've just been so busy matchmaking for people that it completely slipped my mind. So, how _was_ your date with Ianto?_" The Welshman had spent so long practising his Gwen impression with Tosh that even the slightly disapproving model on the other end of the line could not fault it.

"Really really good actually, or at least I thought so. But then he called this morning and didn't even say 'hello', so I guess I must have been misreading the signs when he kissed me last night," Jack responded in suitably dejected tones, glad that he had ignored Gwen's demands for him to get a videophone- it wouldn't do for Ianto to be seeing his grin.

"_I'm sure you weren't misreading the signs, but maybe we could get together on Wednesday night to minutely dissect the evening and see? My place- I'll cook._"

The American raised an eyebrow. "This is the point where you _need_ to step back into being Ianto, and pronto."

"_Ok; why _this_ point, precisely?_"

Jack could not help but laugh at his boyfriend's innocent question. "Because if you were to stay Gwen, I'm afraid I would have to decline your invitation. I love her to bits, but her cooking is the shortest route to the emergency room."

A delightful chuckle reached his ears. "_Well that's not the case with my cooking, I promise. I even have references, if you need._"

"I think I'll take your word for it. So, that's a date! And now that's settled, why the questions about my interview? Been rethinking what you want me to say?"

"_Actually, no. I was just wondering- it _is_ in London, right?_"

The model chuckled. "Oh yeah- Ealing, the fashion capital of the world."

"_Ealing?!_" Ianto evidently could not hide his astonishment. Jack grinned. The suburb was known for its smart living, not its designer shops.

"Well, I tell a lie. I'll probably haul SJ out of Ealing for the day, take her somewhere upmarket in the centre. Why the sudden interest?"

There was a moment's silence, which Jack filled by stuffing the last of his toast in his mouth. Then his Welshman's hesitant tones filled his ears once more.

"_It's just that I have a friend in London… And she's been begging for a visit for ages…_"

"Want a lift?" the American offered without further ado.

"_Could you? That would be great_."

"Of course! Look, we'll work out details on Wednesday, yeah? What time do you want me to get there?"

Another pause- evidently Ianto was doing some mental calculations. "_About seven thirty? Oh, no, sorry, I mean seven._" Even down the phone, his grin was evident, and Jack pouted.

"That's a low blow from someone begging a lift all the way to London."

Once again, the phone line did nothing to disguise the violinist's smirk as he deadpanned: "_I thought low blows were off-limits until the seventh date?_"

A flurry of images shot through Jack's mind, and he exhaled sharply, dug his nails into his palm and mentally yanked the Welshman up from his knees.

"Right, Wednesday, seven thirty," he repeated, pretending to ignore Ianto's comment. "Great. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some rather important emails to send."

"_Of course. Have a good day!_"

As the dialling tone sounded, Jack grinned wickedly and dumped the phone back on the sideboard before heading for the living room in search of his laptop. It was essential that he got these emails sent as soon as humanly possible…

-

-

**A/N: So, I'm trying to decide how saucy to go with this fic. What do you guys think? Do like the rating as it is, or would you prefer it to go up? Alternatively, what do you think to the idea of keeping this fic rated T, and posting anything more adult that my muse throws at me in a separate fic?**


	11. Interruptions

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T (Haven't quite decided what to do if I end up writing a few M scenes; but thank you all for the feedback, I really appreciate it)**

**General Notes- This will be the last update for a couple of days- I'm away 'til Sunday and not sure if/when I'll have time to write or post. Hopefully it's good enough to last you 'til then! Thank you all for continuing to read and review; I hope this answers some of your questions about the method behind the apparent madness.**

**Chapter Notes- I hope you appreciate the email addresses, it took _forever_ to edit them so that you could actually see them! (My own stupidity, but meh). And the formatting in the first email looks _so_ much better on word *pouts*. Anyways, third time lucky on the uploading... *crosses fingers*  
**

**Post-It Count: 30**

-

-

-

**Interruptions**

--

From: jharkness(at)torchwood(.)net

To: welsh_coffee_boy(at)gmail(.)com

Sent: 06 December 2009 10:08:37

Subject: Potential Misunderstanding

-

Dear Mr Jones,

-

It would appear that one of two eventualities has occurred:

a) You did not take to heart my words last night about not sleeping together until the seventh date.

b) You heeded my words, and are in fact trying to kill me.

-

In the hope that the former is the case and the latter never comes to pass, I am writing to present you with some information which you may find useful. Please consider the following carefully.

-

7 Reasons the 7 Date Rule rocks:

1) Anticipation. Trust me, I speak from experience. There is nothing on this earth hotter than sex after a brief period of planned abstinence.

2) You can relax on the first six dates without having to worry about your performance in the bedroom department. (By the seventh date, you'll be so horny you'll be long past concern.)

3) You really know your man by the time you sleep with him- and the sex is better because you have formed an emotional connection.

4) Of course, on the off chance the sex isn't fabulous, you'll be comfortable enough with one another to discuss it, so it won't ruin the relationship your seven dates have established.

5) It gives you plenty of time to book in your STI and HIV tests. The best sex is safe sex. (Mostly because I don't practice any other kind.)

6) Patience and endurance are wonderfully attractive character traits.

7) It's a fabulous source for private jokes. (Ok, so my inspiration is wearing a little thin here. But at least that should prove I've never sent this email before. The first five points are incredibly pertinent though.)

-

However, because I am nothing if not a fair man, I will consent to counterbalance the above argument with the following:

-

One Big Reason the Rule Sucks:

1) You are an incredibly, incredibly attractive man. My willpower is definitely going to be put to the test. (But don't worry, I'm man enough to take it.)

-

Thank you for taking the time to read the above. I hope it clears up one or two points.

-

Sincerely,

Jack Harkness, esquire.

--

--

From: welsh_coffee_boy(at)gmail(.)com

To: jharkness(at)torchwood(.)net

Sent: 06 December 2009 10:21:19

Subject: Is that so?

-

Dear Mr Harkness,

-

Read and noted. Just think of it as about three weeks of foreplay. Ok. I can do that.

-

Sincerely,

Ianto Jones, esquire.

-

P.S. Vain, much?

-

P.P.S. You are correct, Sir. It _is_ one big reason to hate the rule, if I do say so myself. Again, I have references.

--

--

From: jharkness(at)torchwood(.)net

To: welsh_coffee_boy(at)gmail(.)com

Sent: 06 December 2009 10:25:52

Subject: Definite Misunderstanding

-

Ok, I was mistaken. You _are_ trying to kill me.

--

--

From: welsh_coffee_boy(at)gmail(.)com

To: jharkness(at)torchwood(.)net

Sent: 06 December 2009 10:28:03

Subject: Puh-leaze

-

Why not just man up and admit that you were _wrong_?

-

P.S. Can you think of a better way to go?

--

--

From: jharkness(at)torchwood(.)net

To: welsh_coffee_boy(at)gmail(.)com

Sent: 06 December 2009 10:31:12

Subject: Never!

-

I'm never wrong.

-

N.B. I always fancied something creative; stray javelin?

--

--

From: jharkness(at)torchwood(.)net

To: welsh_coffee_boy(at)gmail(.)com

Sent: 06 December 2009 10:33:42

Subject: Phone Calls Save Lives

-

And I'm the Queen of Sheba.

-

I'm sure that can be arranged. Though I still think sex is a better exit that sports. But I do believe that sooner or later you will incur the creative curtain you crave when Gwen beats you to death with a rolling pin. You didn't specify precisely when your creative exit should be, but I'm assuming you don't want it to be too soon. For that reason, you should keep calling me. You know what nearly happened when you tried not to. And the kisses were worth it, don't you think? And they were just kisses- imagine the buzz you'd get from the rest…

--

--

Actually, Jack had no desire to imagine the buzz he would get from the rest. He was already up and dressed, and really couldn't be bothered with stripping for a cold shower. Focusing his thoughts on blood and gore, he opened a new email and paused for a second, waiting for inspiration to strike. Instead, his ringtone struck his ears and he abandoned his quest for a witty retort in favour of answering the phone.

"Hello?"

"_Oh good, you're in. Listen, Jack, I have a meeting with my editor tomorrow wherein I'm going to have to convince her that you really are the best choice for next issue's celebrity interview. So it would really help if I can confirm your willingness to discuss certain topics…_"

Jack grinned. "Pre-empted you there, SJ! I've already discussed it with my man. I'm willing to talk about my love life in general terms, but I'm not naming any names."

"_And off the record…?_" The American could practically smell Sarah Jane's curiosity. He grinned.

"Off the record, I'll parade him in front of you in London- I'm giving him a lift down because he wants to see an old friend. Absolutely no cameras though; he hates publicity."

"_Of course. I'll look forward to meeting him. Anyone who can put up with you for an extended period of time has got to be worth gawping at._"

150 miles away from the journalist, the model pouted.

"Ok, I have seriously _got_ to replace my current bunch of friends for a set of people who are actually nice to me."

"_I thought that people who are nice to you annoy you? 'Let me open that door for you, Jack.' 'I'll carry that for you, Jack.' 'Oh, thank you so much, Jack!' 'I hero-worship you with knobs on, Jack! And even though I've never met you before in my life I've seen your picture in a magazine so I'm going to subvert the natural bounds of politeness and pretend to be your best friend and gush at you all day long never ever ever finding fault, Jack…_"

"Ok, ok, enough!" Jack sank down onto the sofa, exhausted by the sheer speed of Sarah Jane's attack. "You're right; I love you really."

"_Good. Now, what about more serious and thought-provoking topics? You know I hate doing wishy-washy 'how's your career and your love life? Fine? Oh, fabulous- see you next year' type interviews._"

Jack didn't even need to pause to consider- he'd done a lot of thinking as he'd made breakfast that morning. "I'm willing to speak out about the dangers of drugs. John won't want his name in the press, but I know he won't mind me discussing it. Oh, and of course, I'm openly gay and proud- isn't that enough of a controversial topic? I really don't want to get started on politics or whether I believe in aliens or anything like that."

He was treated to a painfully rare laugh from the journalist. "_I find it interesting that you lump those two issues in the same sentence- can it be possible that you share my theory that our Prime Minister is an alien?_"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but Harold Saxon just appears to be too perfect to be human." He paused for a split second, a sudden thought striking him. "Mind you, so does Ianto. Oh my god, I'm screwing an alien!"

"_Can I put that in my briefing notes?_" He could hear Sarah Jane's smile down the phone, and chuckled.

"Be my guest. But remember, if you get me locked up by the men in white coats, you've lost your interview."

"_Damn, best not then. Right, to clarify- you'll talk about your love life, but no specifics of your current partner; you'll talk about drugs; and you'll talk about your sexuality- but not your predilection for aliens._"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle. "That is correct." Even though she couldn't see him, he nodded. "And then when we're done with the interview, we should drag Ianto and his 'old friend' out for dinner in the evening."

"_Sounds good; I'll have to sort something out for Luke though._"

"Why not bring him with you?"

The journalist's laugh drifted back to him. "_He's only fourteen, Captain. I'm trying to protect him from prolonged exposure to your constant innuendo 'til he's at least past the age of consent_."

The model pouted. "Oi, I'll have you know I'm a model uncle!"

"_But in which sense do you mean that?_"

The pout grew. "Oh, well, if you're going to get clever with me…"

"_Is that a threat, Captain?_"

In the second that he paused to think of a smart reply (damn, he was going to have to get quicker at that if he was to withstand duels of wit with Ianto!) the American's concentration was disrupted by a background noise.

"No, it's the doorbell," he responded distractedly, earning himself another pretty laugh.

"_Well, I'll leave you in peace to answer it… Ooh, before I go, one last thing- if push comes to shove, I may need an ace up my sleeve-_"

Jack grinned and cut across, knowing exactly where this sentence was leading. "As long as I get to keep underwear on, I'll be photographed in any decadent state of undress you need to get your article passed."

"_Thank you so much, Jack!_"

"Anytime. And stop gushing, you're supposed to be my grounded, cynical fangirl!"

He could almost hear the eyebrow raise he got in response. "_Girl is pushing it a little, I feel. But go- answer the door before Gwen produces her magic rolling pin and beats you to death with it._"

"Can't be having that now, can we?" the model joked as he took a token step in the direction of the door. "I'll see you Thursday, have a good week."

"_You too. Au revoir, Captain_."

"À bientôt, Miss Smith."

Tossing the receiver onto the sofa, he headed for the door with more purpose, grinning as he noted that the doorbell had stopped, and instead his caller was knocking out the tune of 'All By Myself' (a feat which was impressive in itself, considering that 'All By Myself' isn't the easiest tune to tap.)

"Trying to give me a message?" he demanded as he yanked open the door, grinning as Gwen practically fell through it.

"About bloody time!" she groused, pushing past him to the kitchen, where she dumped a deli bag on the table and began fishing for plates. "I come bearing lunch."

This addition was slightly unnecessary- as soon as he clocked the bag Jack had been diving into it in search of dessert.

"Sandwiches first!" his best friend scolded, whipping round and deftly removing the carrot cake from between the model's fingers. He pouted, and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't be such a baby. Now, find me a glass of juice, and then we can sit down and talk all about your date with Ianto."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Cracking out a salute, Jack set to work. The sooner he gave Gwen her gossip fix, the safer he would be. He was sure the rolling pin was lurking in her handbag somewhere.


	12. Panic & Pleasantries

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Sorry for the delay in updating; as I said last chapter I was away for the weekend, and then my muse held this fic hostage until I'd finished 'Just Another Heart In Need Of Rescue'. (Which is posted if you want to check it out… *shameless plug*) Anyways, hope it was worth the wait. Love, coffee and thanks to my awesome reviewers!**

**Random Fact: This chapter is listed very close to 'Vanilla Cheesecake' in my Document Manager, and consequently I keep reading the chapter title as 'Panic & _Pastries_'- and damn is it making me hungry! (Unfortunately, I have no cheesecake. Or pastries. *le sigh*)  
**

**Post-It Count: 36**

-

-

-

**Panic & Pleasantries**

-

Wednesday could not come soon enough for Ianto; but when the day rolled around he suddenly found himself in a blind panic. What was he thinking, inviting Jack to his home? He lived in a rented two-up-two-down in a shabby area of Cardiff, where drunks prowled the streets at night and it wasn't safe to leave your car parked on the road. (Of course, street parking was the only parking available- just one of the reasons Ianto did not own a car.) Unless Gwen got him some concerts, and fast, he would genuinely be able to lay claim to the title of 'penniless musician'. And what with it being Christmas in a few weeks and all, there was a very real possibility that he wouldn't be able to make rent next month and would begin the New Year on the streets. Well, ok, at Tosh's. But that was still equal to the shame of being homeless. His father would be turning in his grave if he could see how Ianto's choice of career was turning out. The Welshman was infuriatingly close to giving up on his dream of being a professional musician and using his degree to get a job in archives or admin or something.

And he had invited Jack to a meal at his home. Jack, the model who could afford to dine out in Ayesha's regularly. Jack, who didn't bat an eyelash at ordering £50 bottles of wine. Jack, who didn't see the issue in putting a £300 mobile phone in the fridge and whose only annoyance about it breaking was at the temporary loss of communication potential. What had he been thinking? Jack was going to take one look at his home and realise he was making a huge mistake.

To make matters worse, Ianto couldn't afford to cancel because cancelling also risked losing Jack; and although it was his turn to arrange a date he could not afford to take Jack to a restaurant or even to a movie. And so, Ianto panicked. The immediate solution, of course, was to call Toshiko for advice.

-

Tosh had been feeling somewhat deserted and as a consequence somewhat annoyed with Ianto, but as soon as she heard his panicked tones over the phone she forgave him everything and jumped on the next bus heading his way. Without her help, Ianto wouldn't even have remembered to start cooking, but once he did many of his worries fell away: cooking was one of the things he was good at, and going through the familiar motions calmed him. They both lost track of the time, and so when Tosh noticed that the clock read 7:25 she let out a yelp of surprise.

"Goodness, Yan, I'd better go- he'll be here any minute!"

Ianto laughed. "Yeah, right. This is Jack we're talking about, Tosh- I'm not expecting him 'til eight."

"Well even so, you'll still want me out of the way," the tech expert reasoned. She had no desire to stay and play gooseberry. Besides, she was hungry. Knowing that Ianto would want some privacy with Jack but would be loath to throw her out of his house, she picked up her bag determinedly.

"Well, it was good seeing you, Yan. Just remember, relax! Everything's going to be fine. Have a wonderful time in London tomorrow." Her bright tones successfully covered her jealousy, for which she was grateful. Ianto had enough on his plate without having to feel guilty about a short break.

Tosh was just pulling the door closed behind her when she noticed the taxi pulling up to the kerb. The sparkling blue eyes and impeccably styled brown hair of the man who embarked confirmed her suspicions, and she gasped.

"My goodness, you must be Jack!" she exclaimed, suddenly feeling star-struck. The man had been pinned to her wall for nigh on ten years, after all.

The American grinned. "Gorgeous eyes and a smile that could light up the city- you must be Toshiko."

"He's mentioned me?" Tosh could not hide her astonishment.

Jack nodded sincerely. "You're very important to him. It's 'Tosh and I this' and 'Tosh and I that'- I declare, I got quite jealous." He flashed her one of his patented megawatt smiles and the tech expert blushed.

"You've nothing to worry about, he's crazy about you," she assured him, hoping she wasn't putting her foot in it. The smile she received in reply instantly reassured her that she'd been right to speak up.

"Good, because I'm crazy about him."

The American glanced down at his watch as he spoke, frowning as he noticed that the minute hand had just slipped past the half-hour.

"Damn, so close!"

Tosh chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, he's not expecting you 'til eight."

The model pouted. "Ok, one of these days I'm going to take you out for a coffee and find out exactly what lies he's told you about me." Fishing in his pocket, he produced a business card and handed it to the tech expert.

"That's my landline, though the mobile number is outdated. I'll get your number from Ianto and text you when I get a new one."

"Oh yes, you broke your phone trying not to call Ianto, didn't you?" Tosh giggled.

Jack pouted again, harder. "Alright, is there _anyone_ in Cardiff who doesn't know about that?"

"Nope, I think the news has spread as far as London by now," Toshiko replied, deadly serious.

The American grinned. "Oh yeah, Ianto's mysterious 'old friend' in London that he's so keen to see. Tell me, Toshiko, who is he or she, and should I be jealous?"

Tosh smiled even as she made a mental note to warn Ianto that his boyfriend might possibly be beginning to show signs of a possessive streak.

"_She_ is an old friend of ours from university; so no, you don't need to be jealous." Try as she might, the tech expert could not help a little wistfulness creeping into her tones.

Sharp as ever, Jack was quick to pick up on it. "Oh, she's your friend too? Wanna come tomorrow? There's plenty of room in the SUV, and I can have my PA book another hotel room."

Tosh gasped. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly. I mean, I can't really afford it…" It was coming up Christmas, and she had train tickets to buy as well as gifts; and then there was all the technical equipment she needed for her latest project…

"My treat," the American grinned persuasively.

"Are you sure?" Tosh felt distinctly uncomfortable about the idea of accepting even as the part of her that really envied Ianto his trip screamed at her to say yes.

Jack shrugged. "You seem to know everything about me, Toshiko- I assume Ianto's told you that I just signed a new contract and that I'm going to London for a magazine interview: I have a little extra cash kicking around to treat my friends. And I'm sure you want to see your friend just as much as Ianto does."

Still Tosh hesitated. He was right, she did really want to go; but at the same time she knew how excited Ianto was and she didn't want to mess things up for him.

"Ianto would be delighted if you came; I know he would." Jack seemed to read her mind, picking up on her doubt. Inwardly her spirits fell: he was doing this for Ianto. When he had said 'treat my friends', he had meant Ianto.

"Honestly, it's no trouble. In fact, it would be a pleasure. I'd love to get to know you a little better, Toshiko."

Tosh felt cornered. She had no idea what to say any more. The American sensed her indecision, and shrugged.

"Take some time to think it over, and call Ianto or I when you decide. We'll let you know what the travel arrangements are for tomorrow."

"Ok," the tech expert nodded, relieved that the pressure had been taken off her, if only for the moment.

Jack grinned. "Here, let me get you a taxi." He stepped away from the vehicle he had been leaning on and opened the door; and Tosh suddenly realised that the taxi Jack had arrived in had never left. If the meter had been running whilst they had been talking, it was going to cost a fortune- and she couldn't really afford to take a cab for an ordinary rate. But at the same time, she didn't want to appear poor or a cheapskate by telling the American that she'd rather take the bus. Suddenly she understood Ianto's stress perfectly, and subtly crossed her fingers for him.

"Pre-paid," Jack informed her, again seeming to sense her dilemma. She opened her mouth to protest, and he held up a hand to stop her. "I insist. Any friend of Ianto's is a friend of mine, and it's my fault you've stood here talking so long. I'm not having you walking to the nearest bus stop in the dark on your own; and I doubt your car's here because Ianto told me that parking outside is risky in these parts. So please, humour me, Toshiko, or I'll be worrying all night. And you wouldn't want to ruin Ianto's date now would you?"

If he hadn't been a model, Jack would have made a very good politician. The low, soothing tones and reasonable argument could have convinced even the most stubborn of people to see the American's point of view. As if the persuasive speech wasn't enough, Tosh suddenly realised that if she didn't shut up, acquiesce and vamoose, Ianto's cooking and ergo his already flimsy confidence would be ruined. Shooting Jack one of those smiles which could light up the city, she nodded and climbed into the vehicle.

"Thank you."

"Pleasure," Jack beamed back. "It was lovely to meet you, Toshiko. Let me know what you decide about tomorrow. But do come; it'll be fun!"

The thing was, he sounded as if he really meant it. It was all Tosh could do to stop the tears springing to her eyes- it seemed so long since anyone but Ianto had been so kind to her. The door closed and Jack gave her one final smile and wave; and then the taxi was moving and Toshiko was alone with her thoughts.

-

-

**A/N: So, should Tosh go to London or not? Let me know what you think.**


	13. Quivering Wrecks

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- This chapter is fuelled by Lambrini. It may not make sense.**

**Heartfelt Thanks- I know I'm rubbish at responding to reviews; but I really do appreciate them. And for what it's worth, it's your reviews that keep me inspired. (The last set just mapped out the entire London trip, which I think you're gonna love. I hope so, anyway.) This fic just reached 100 reviews, and I'm overwhelmed. Thank you all so much for taking the time to give feedback and support; I hope you all continue to enjoy reading the story as much as I'm enjoying writing it.**

**Dedications- This chapter is dedicated to a lot of wonderful people:**

**-John Barrowman- Because 13 is his lucky number. And also because he's awesome.**

**-Gareth David-Lloyd- Because if he didn't look so good in a suit this fic wouldn't exist. And also because he's awesome.  
**

**-My amazing reviewers- lysmachine; leonale; milady dragon; socalrose; ciocia; darkdranzer; proum; goldykat; captain-ally; thunderincrimson; zsazsa4168; tempestuous-rayne; Amethystbutterflies; Kate Andromeda; Hariella; toobeauty; specialfrancine; christiaan; Pooky1234; TracyLynn; Meatball42; Sam Wiise Gamjii; Poisoned-Thorns; WingedHybrid; JonesIantoJones; Wildfire2; HuckingHarkness; Huehuetecti; deemama66; SpecialFaiths; Stress-Junkie; Namiko-kii; StarsOutlineOurStory; Andine; bbmcowgirl; marajade963; DarqueQueen7- Because I wouldn't have hit 25,000 words without you all. And also because you're as awesome as JB and GDL added together. Which is a whole lot of awesome.  
**

**Post-It Count: 44**

**Dates Remaining: 4&1/2  
**

-

-

-

**Quivering Wrecks**

-

Jack watched the taxi go with a frown playing across his handsome face, then shrugged and turned to the door. Ianto answered fairly quickly, greeting the American with a knowing grin and a pointed glance at his watch.

Jack chuckled. "I'll have you know I was here dead on time- early, even. It's hardly my fault that I ran into a beautiful woman on your doorstep and had to stop and say hello."

Ianto quirked an eyebrow, his old doubts about the model's sexuality coming flooding back. "I'm going to hope you mean Tosh there," he commented, kissing Jack possessively on the lips. The American chuckled and returned the gesture in kind before bringing out his infamous pout.

"Indeed; and I was sad to discover that you have thoroughly savaged my reputation."

It was the Welshman's turn to chuckle. "I'm sorry, Jack, but you broke your phone putting it in the _fridge_ to stop yourself from calling me. That's actually quite funny. And no, you're never going to live it down."

"Who died and made you Gwen?" Jack groused, his lips traitorously twitching. "But say it a little louder why don't you, I think there's a deaf man a couple of doors down who didn't quite hear you."

Ianto started, suddenly realising that they were indeed still stood on the doorstep. "Oh, god, sorry, come in. Welcome to my humble abode."

"Finally, I was beginning to think you lived on the streets!" the model teased, missing the flash of pain that shot across Ianto's face as he glanced around the hallway.

"I like it," Jack declared a couple of seconds later as he followed the Welshman into the kitchen.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "You don't have to pretend, Jack; I know it's tiny and crap."

"I'm not pretending," the model returned instantly, trying to suppress a flash of hurt and concern. "I really do like it. Yeah, it's a little small, but it's cosy. Cosy is good. And it's just so, well, _Ianto_."

"What do you mean?" Ianto asked, curious in spite of himself. To his astonishment the American's praise actually sounded genuine, and he allowed himself a small smile as he clicked the kettle on to re-boil and stirred the sauce.

Jack grinned broadly. "I mean, look at it. A great big shiny coffee machine and elegant espresso cups out on display. Random photographs of you and Tosh together which I _know_ she put up and you don't have the heart to take down- not that you _really_ want to, because you've grown to love them, though you'd never admit that to her. The music-themed fridge magnets. And I _love_ the poster."

Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. He loved the poster himself: indeed he and Tosh had made it themselves (amidst much wine and hilarity) the previous Sunday whilst discussing Ianto and Jack's second date. To tell the truth, he was really quite proud of the poster. But he hadn't been sure how his boyfriend would react. A good deal of the afternoon had been spent pulling it down and putting it back up again before Tosh had finally persuaded him that Jack would take it in the spirit in which it was meant.

There, on Ianto's fridge, held up by the Welshman's favourite magnets, was a particularly flattering scantily clad image of Jack, taken from one of his underwear modelling campaigns. To this image had been added a caption in curling fuchsia letters: '_Vanilla Cheesecake_.'

The American chuckled at the Welshman's sigh, stepping up to slip his arms around Ianto from behind.

"Does it come in any other designs?" he demanded, and Ianto laughed.

"We tried a few, and decided we liked this one best. Of course, we were pissed when we made that decision, so it might actually be crap."

Unseen by the violinist, Jack frowned. "I think I may have to get you drunk more often, Mr Jones," he purred lightly, his breath ghosting over Ianto's neck and making the Welshman shiver.

"I will be regulating the alcohol very carefully tonight, Captain Harkness," he replied primly, expression deadpan as he turned in the model's arms so they were stood eye to eye. "I don't want you getting me pissed and trying to have your wicked way with me- I have a schedule to keep to."

Jack chuckled. "Believe me, Mr Jones, the thought never even crossed my mind," he replied innocently.

"Hmm…" Ianto raised a disbelieving eyebrow. The thought had certainly crossed his mind briefly, so he had no doubt that it would have occurred to Jack too. However, the model's angelic smile did not budge one inch, and Ianto felt inexorably drawn to his boyfriend's lips.

"I'll tell you what, though," he grinned suddenly, checking the timepiece in his hand. "You _can_ have your wicked way with me for the next seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds whilst the pasta is cooking..."

Jack's eyes followed the Welshman's, and a fascinated gleam lit up the cerulean depths as he caught sight of the timepiece.

"Ianto Jones, is that a stopwatch?" he breathed, his words ghosting over Ianto's lips like a caress as he gently took the musician's hand and manoeuvred it into the light to examine the antique it held.

Ianto smiled fondly. "It is indeed," he replied proudly, gently stroking the casing. "It was my grandfather's."

"It's beautiful," Jack said sincerely; then a lascivious grin tugged at his lips. "And useful, too. Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch."

"Oh?" Ianto could think of a few. Timing spaghetti was just one of them. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that Jack's ideas of what to do with a stopwatch ran along a somewhat different vein. Possibly the one which his lips were now tracing as the model planted butterfly kisses on Ianto's pulse point.

"Oh yeah," Jack smirked, kissing the musician soundly on the mouth. Then he trailed his lips to Ianto's left ear and proceeded to spend the next six minutes and nineteen seconds murmuring delicious sounding suggestions into it, punctuated with soft nibbles on the lobe. By the time the pasta was ready, the musician was a quivering mess in the model's arms.


	14. Wining and Dining

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Thank you all for reviewing again! I hope you enjoy this; let me know what you think. x**

**Random Notes- Jack is a very bad influence. He made me buy cheesecake.**

**Massive thanks to Amethystbutterflies for the beta.**

**Post-It Count: 50**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Chapter 14- Wining and Dining**

-

"So what delights do I have to look forward to tonight?" Jack enquired as Ianto reluctantly extricated himself from the model's arms in order to rescue the pasta.

The Welshman chuckled. "Nothing special, I'm afraid- it's only spaghetti. But if you're a good boy and keep your hands to yourself there might be some dessert."

"Now where would the fun be in that?" Jack grinned, placing a strategic hand on Ianto's backside as his boyfriend drained the pasta.

The musician laughed as he deftly stepped out of the model's reach and added the sauce to the spaghetti. "See, I knew you couldn't behave yourself for two minutes together. It's a good thing I was planning on keeping the dessert back until the seventh date…"

"A man on my wavelength, what are the chances?" Jack grinned good-naturedly as he leaned back against the counter waiting for Ianto to direct him into a seat.

"About a million to one. Trust me, I took Statistics for GCSE," Ianto deadpanned as he placed the dishes on the table. "Well, take a seat- I'll get the wine."

Since the wine bottle was currently reposing right behind Jack, the model opened his mouth to protest that he could fetch it, it would be no trouble. Then he noticed that the label was facing the wall and took the hint, dropping into the nearest chair and pretending not to notice Ianto's tiny sigh of relief as he picked up the bottle and poured two glasses. The Welshman wasn't sure how a model with a taste for expensive cabernet sauvignons would take to £5 Merlot- the best bottle the musician currently had in.

"Hmm, excellent taste in wine, food _and_ coffee- is there anything you can't do?" Jack asked a second later, setting his glass down after the first sip. Ianto didn't know whether to be pleased or offended that Jack was so obviously trying to make him feel better about his situation. Shelving the matter for the present, he decided to be bitter instead.

"Get concerts, apparently. I've got one early next month; but all the practising in the meantime is getting a little boring, and I only have one concert left of the ones scheduled by my old PR company."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me, I nearly forgot!" Jack exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Gwen is pissed with me for hauling you off to London tomorrow- she wants to meet with you asap about some possible gigs. Can you call her tonight and arrange the best time to meet on Saturday?"

"Really?" Ianto's face lit up with relief, and Jack smiled even as he wished he was the one making the Welshman look so happy.

"Yep."

"Oh, that's fantastic! Remind me to call her after dinner, will you?"

"Sure. I ought to be able to remember, I'm not cripplingly old yet," the American grinned slightly ruefully- his ostensibly unshakeable confidence had taken a slight knock by finding his first grey hair that morning.

"Really? Sure you don't want a zimmer frame for Christmas?" Ianto teased, looking a lot younger now he had a weight off his mind.

"Quite sure, thank you," Jack replied with as much dignity as he could muster. "I'll have you know I'm still pretty agile." To prove his point, he toed his shoe off and ran his socked foot up the Welshman's leg, making him jump as the appendage settled in his lap.

"I believe you," the violinist murmured, swallowing hard. "But I have to warn you, keep that up and we are not going to make it to seven dates."

"Damn, is my technique that bad?" Jack quipped, obligingly removing his foot anyway and uncharacteristically ignoring the obvious innuendo.

"Quite the opposite." Ianto took a sip of wine, trying to compose himself. "And I'm completely prepared to accept your limits, don't doubt that for a moment. Those reasons you gave me for your rule were very convincing. Even so, there _is_ a limit to my patience, and you were massaging it a second ago."

"You're the one who suggested three weeks of foreplay…" the American smiled innocently, twirling spaghetti round his fork. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked an escaping strand into his mouth, further defining his stunning cheekbones and instantly making Ianto imagine those talented lips wrapped around something else. He closed his eyes and frantically thought of his grandmother, cursing his decision to make spaghetti. At this rate he'd be lucky if he made it through the meal.

"You ok?" Jack's slightly anxious question cut through his reverie and he nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak.

The American smirked. "I sense a subject change is necessary here… Ooh, how about tomorrow? We need to make travel arrangements. Oh, and I invited Toshiko to tag along- hope that's ok."

The shock of the model's last statement more than worked to restore Ianto's equilibrium.

"Really? Fantastic! Thanks for inviting her, Jack; I think she really needs a break. She's been a bit down lately, and I've been wracking my brains for a way to cheer her up. This is perfect."

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, well. Plenty of room in the car; and I'd been dying to make her acquaintance, seeing as I've heard so much about her. It'll be nice to get to know her a bit better, since she's so important to you. And from what I saw during our brief conversation today, she's every bit the sweetheart you make her out to be."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Praise indeed- need I be jealous?" he enquired lightly, inwardly glowing at the praise of his best friend.

"No." Jack's reply was instant. "She's your best friend, and my name is not Owen. Besides, I'm already with a very handsome man whom I like very very much indeed."

The Welshman beamed. "The feeling's mutual."

"Good." Smiling back, Jack leaned across to plant a soft kiss on Ianto's lips. "Hey, have I mentioned that this spaghetti is fabulous?"

The musician chuckled. "You might have done, once or twice."

"Oh. Good, because it's fabulous."

"Why not just come out and say that it's fabulous fabulous fabulous and save yourself the effort of forming multiple sentences?" Ianto grinned. Tosh had always told him that his cooking was amazing, but somehow the compliment seemed even more special coming from Jack.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. 'Fabulous fabulous fabulous' just doesn't seem to sound quite right. 'Fantastic fantastic fantastic'?"

"That'll do me. Now, about tomorrow- what time are you picking Tosh and I up?"

Jack frowned slightly as he mentally made a couple of quick calculations. "I'm meeting SJ at one; and it's the three hour drive, plus contingency time and time to check into the hotel… I'll pick you up at eight thirty. That ok?"

Ianto nodded. "Fine, I'm an early riser. Tosh hates mornings though, so you should probably pick her up first."

"If she's going…"Jack murmured, capturing the last couple of fragmented strands of spaghetti with his spoon.

It was Ianto's turn to frown. "I thought you said you'd invited her?"

The American raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Ianto. I've _invited_ her." He sat back and waited for the penny to drop, impressed by the speed with which realisation dawned on the Welshman's face.

"Oh, I see, you asked her but she dithered because she wants to go but feels like she would be getting in the way; so you said you'd give her time to think and to call you or I later. Of course, you're clever enough to recognise that the poor woman is going to dither indefinitely, so you were planning to ask me to ring her and tell her to bloody well go; but as soon as you stepped inside your attention was captivated by my arse and you completely forgot to make the request." The violinist smiled in satisfaction, sure that he had read his two favourite people right. "What?" he added, frowning at the unreadable expression on Jack's face. It seemed to embody bewilderment, astonishment, impressed-ness and fear.

"Ok, that is just freaky," the model announced, blinking. "Are you _absolutely_ sure you're not Gwen's secret twin?"

Ianto laughed. "I thought you said you had a degree in astrophysics, and I'm sure you've mentioned something about A-level biology."

"What have my qualifications got to do with anything?" The astonishment, impressed-ness and fear had vanished, leaving only bewilderment on the model's face.

The Welshman raised an eyebrow. "Jack. Your degree implies you know something about the basic workings of mathematics; and your A level biology suggests you know something about the basic workings of human beings."

"That is true," Jack conceded, still puzzled.

Ianto laughed. "Jack. I am twenty-six. And I know it's rude to ask a lady her age, but if you met Gwen at university she's got to be at least thirty-two."

"If you're fishing for information on your PR agent's age, you picked the wrong pond," Jack smirked to cover his confusion. To be honest, he had forgotten exactly how this particular strain of banter had started, so he had no idea what the Welshman was driving at.

The musician rolled his eyes. "Jack. How is it possible for a twenty-six-year-old and a thirty-two-year-old to be twins?"

"Alien technology," Jack responded instantly with a winning grin, unpredictable as ever. Ianto, smug in his victory, had made the mistake of taking a celebratory sip of wine. Both men got a distinct feeling of déjà vu as the Welshman's drink caught in his throat and he coughed and spluttered, Jack rubbing his back soothingly and murmuring an apology.

"I'll have you know I have never been attacked by alien technology!" Ianto snorted as soon as he was sufficiently recovered.

"How do you know?" Jack returned, cocking an eyebrow.

The Welshman considered this. "Because I don't believe in aliens," he concluded.

"Just because you don't believe in them doesn't mean they don't exist," the American responded.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're a conspiracy theorist."

The model chuckled. "I'm open to anything, me."

"And don't I know it," Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and that reminds me…" he commented, getting up and crossing to the drawers. Producing a paper bag, he handed it to the bewildered model.

"What's this?" he demanded as he ripped it open, and the Welshman chuckled.

"I don't know what you were planning to wear to your interview tomorrow, but I thought that would be the perfect accessory."

Understanding dawned in Jack's eyes and he laughed. "But which meaning do you intend me to attach to it?" he asked, folding the orange handkerchief and tucking it into the back right pocket of his snug-fitting jeans.

"Both," Ianto replied promptly as he took a moment to admire the effect. "And I intend you to uphold both, too."

The American laughed. "Even in regards to you?"

The violinist chuckled. "Well… I'll let you drop the 'just looking' after the seventh date. In fact, I might even let you wear it on the left."

"I should damn well hope so!" the model responded, matching Ianto's chuckle with one of his own. "Thanks, by the way."

"Pleasure." The Welshman smiled, glad that Jack seemed to have a similar sense of humour and appreciated every joke even when he was the butt of it. (Oh god, no- not the time to be thinking about Jack's butt! Ianto swallowed, dragging his eyes north of his boyfriend's extremely flattering jeans.)

"Oh, it will definitely involve pleasure," Jack purred, grinning lasciviously. "I happen to know that this will work very well in conjunction with that stopwatch of yours."

"I don't even want to know how you know that," Ianto retorted, picking a fight as a means of controlling his reaction to Jack's provocation. The model laughed.

"His name is John, he's my mandatory psychotic ex, and he'll be sending you a bunch of lilies at some point to prove that point. But don't worry, he's a harmless pussycat really."

The wave of information crashed over Ianto, dissolving and creating tension simultaneously.

"Mandatory?" he enquired. It seemed a fair way to begin processing the American's words.

Jack grinned. "Apparently all minor celebrities need one. Give it a year under Gwen's guidance and you'll need one too. I'll share John if you like; he'd be delighted."

Ianto rolled his eyes, a flash of concern shooting across his face. "Do I want to ask in what context you mean 'share'?"

The American laughed. "I mean you can employ him to send me parcels of nails and keep the tabloids in business. The bedroom absolutely does not come into it. And stop worrying about your career," he deftly misinterpreted the flash of worry. "Trust me- a year with Gwen and you'll be semi-famous and laughing. Things might be slow right now, but to be fair your old PR company weren't exactly geniuses in the business. She's practically having to launch you from scratch, and that takes time."

Ianto shrugged. "Yeah, well. Lilies?"

"Funeral flowers," Jack explained, not slow to notice the rapid change of subject.

"Oh, I see. Parcels of nails?"

It was the model's turn to shrug. "Harmful and random. Not that we necessarily need to understand it; psychotics have their own logic which often isn't clear to us."

Ianto whistled. "You're a psychology buff too?"

"It interests me," Jack shrugged again, then frowned. "We seem to have got awfully off-topic; weren't we talking about arrangements for tomorrow?"

The Welshman chuckled. "Yes, you wanted me to ring Tosh."

"So I did. And you need to ring Gwen too. There, I reminded you. Do I get dessert now?"

Ianto could not help but laugh. "There's home-made cheesecake in the fridge. Don't eat it all whilst I'm on the phone!"

Jack grinned. "Fantastic fantastic fantastic! I shall sit here and attempt to control my salivation whilst you're on the phone, otherwise you won't get a look-in."

The musician grinned. "Why thank you, Sir, you are most kind."

The model raised an eyebrow and passed his boyfriend the phone. "That's code for 'hurry up', by the way."


	15. Dessert

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Sorry for the delay with this chapter, my muse was working on something else. I probably won't be able to update daily now I'm back in lectures, so expect new chapters as and when. =) Once again, thanks so much for reading and reviewing; I hope you enjoy this chapter. (We'll get to London next time, I promise.)**

**Massive thanks to Amethystbutterflies for the beta, the encouragement and all the laughter. x  
**

**Post-It Count: 53**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Dessert**

**-**

Jack stared at the fridge. The cheesecake was calling out to him. But no, he had to wait for Ianto. Humming to distract his thoughts he glanced down at his watch. Ianto had been gone for a good ten minutes- surely he wouldn't be too much longer.

The second hand ticked slowly round, and the siren song of the cheesecake grew louder. Closing his eyes resolutely Jack broke into a murmured song of his own to cover it. By the time he reached the end of 'I Won't Send Roses' there was still no sign of Ianto, and the model cursed under his breath. Drumming his fingers impatiently on the table, he launched into 'Copacabana'. Still the kitchen remained devoid of Welshmen. The American scowled. Ianto had been gone for twenty minutes now, and chatty as Gwen was Jack honestly could not see what was taking so long. Especially when there was cheesecake waiting… He cast a sidelong glance at the fridge. Surely it couldn't hurt just to take a look…

Getting up, he crossed to the fridge and grabbed the handle. Barely had he got the door open an inch when a triumphant voice sounded from the doorway.

"Ha! I knew you couldn't do it!" Ianto smirked at his boyfriend from the doorway.

Jack glared. "You've been sat through there for the last ten minutes waiting for me to cave, haven't you?" he accused.

"Yep," Ianto answered simply.

"On the phone to Gwen, no doubt," the American added, poking his tongue out cheekily. "I bet it was all her idea."

"Mostly," the musician was forced to confess. "Forgive me?"

The model smirked. "Give me a reason to."

In answer, Ianto tugged open the fridge and produced the cheesecake. Jack laughed. "You know, I kinda meant a kiss; but this will do just as nicely."

"As long as you don't want the whole thing," Ianto returned with a grin.

The model pouted. "Oh, you're making me share it? In that case I'll definitely need a kiss."

"If you had no intention of sharing it why did you wait twenty minutes for me to come back?" the Welshman challenged.

"It's rude to raid people's fridges," the American said primly, making his boyfriend laugh.

"So explain to me again, what were you doing when I walked in here?"

"I was just going to have a look!" the model whined.

Ianto grinned as he deposited a generous helping of cheesecake in front of Jack. He could not remember feeling this relaxed and happy in a long time. He had a new friend, he had money-earning concerts on the horizon, and he had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who accepted him unquestioningly for who he was; a boyfriend who _saw_ who he was instead of an image projected to protect Ianto's heart. Now all that he needed to make his heart overflow was to find somebody to put a smile back on Tosh's face; and a hot and steamy night with Jack. For the moment both of these would have to wait, but to be honest at this very moment just the thought made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Impulsively he leaned forward and kissed Jack on the mouth, gliding his tongue along the model's lips and begging entrance. The forkful of cheesecake fell forgotten from Jack's hand as he cupped Ianto's face and kissed back, chasing the musician's tongue with his own in a luscious dance that battled for control. When they finally broke apart, panting and breathless, Ianto stared at Jack.

"You're not serious about the seven date rule, are you?"

"Deadly serious." The model softened his words with a smile, running a gentle hand down Ianto's cheek.

The Welshman took a deep breath to steady himself. "In that case, I may have to set you kissing boundaries." It hurt to say it, but he knew if Jack continued to kiss him like that one or both of them would snap and if the model was serious about waiting until the seventh date, Ianto wanted to respect that.

The American nodded solemnly. "Fair enough. You respect my boundaries, I'll respect yours. Though I have to warn you," he murmured huskily, "kiss me like that too many times, Mr Jones, and I can't promise to be able to stop myself overstepping your smooching boundaries."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Smooching boundaries? You're such a woman!"

Jack smirked. "Wait 'til you see my tiara."

Ianto choked on his mouthful of cheesecake. There was simply no other reply to be made; and it was becoming a painfully common experience.

Jack couldn't help laughing even as he rubbed the Welshman's back comfortingly. "I'm kidding," he reassured his speechless boyfriend. He waited a beat, fighting to suppress his grin. "The tiara actually belongs to a friend. I just borrow it for parties."

This time, much to his relief, Ianto managed to receive the information without choking.

"Fancy dress parties, I hope," he commented when he felt able to speak again.

"Pretty much. And for charity, if that raises your opinion of me. Not that I have a problem with cross-dressing- I'm hardly in a position to do so!- but it's not a habit I engage in all that often, in case you were worried."

Ianto smiled at Jack's honesty. "Jack, I'm gay. I know what it feels like to be in the minority and to be ridiculed for one's sexuality or preferences. I'd never inflict that on someone else. If you want to wear dresses, you go ahead and wear dresses." Jack smiled back warmly, and Ianto, far better trained in the deadpan effect, held his wicked grin in check for the prerequisite beat. "Just make sure you shave your legs first."

This time it was the American's turn to choke on a mouthful of cheesecake. "Ok, we gotta have a rule about not cracking jokes when the other is eating or drinking," he announced melodramatically with a glare at the Welshman- _that was a horrific waste of good cheesecake._

"Oh, you finally know what it feels like!" Ianto could not help but gloat, and Jack smiled ruefully.

"Yeah, sorry. Won't happen again."

"Until next time," the Welshman returned with a grin.

The model pouted. "Why does everyone see me in such a bad light?" he moaned. "Honestly, you're as bad as Owen."

Now that was a name Ianto had heard dropped before; and he remained curious about the person behind it.

"Who's Owen?" he enquired.

"He's a cynical git with a tragic past."

Ianto raised an eyebrow.

Jack grinned. "He's a close friend from uni, Gwen's and my other half."

"But that adds up to more than one," the Welshman protested.

The model smirked. "Well, people do keep describing me- all three of us, in fact- as 'larger than life'."

The musician groaned. "If your puns have become that bad, you've clearly had too much cheesecake."

"Ianto Jones! You can never have too much cheesecake," Jack protested.

Ianto laughed. "Much as I would love to test that theory by making you eat the rest of this, I don't want you getting carsick tomorrow."

"Oh god, yes, tomorrow!" Jack frowned at his watch. "It's getting pretty late, I'd better take off- we have an early start tomorrow. How much contingency time do we need to add in for waking Toshiko up?"

The Welshman chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about it." He fished in his pocket for a bit of paper. "That's her address; pick me up from there at the time you said you'd pick me up from here. I'll make sure she's up and packed."

"And there's plenty of shops down there to kit her out if she isn't," Jack added with a grin.

The musician raised an eyebrow. "Believe me, she'll be packed. Shopping is not Tosh's favourite activity ever. Not when it doesn't involve hardware stores."

"Not into shopping?" Jack sounded scandalised. "But we're going to London!"

"Yes, and you have an interview and a photo shoot, and we're all going out to dinner with our London-based friends on our one evening there. Pray tell me, Captain Harkness, precisely when are we going to go shopping?"

"Spoilsport." Jack shot his boyfriend his best fake pissy look. Ianto merely rolled his eyes.

The American reluctantly slid his empty plate away from him and stood up. "Thank you for dinner Yan, it was fantastic, fantastic ,fantastic," he said warmly, planting a chaste kiss on his Welshman's lips.

Ianto couldn't help it- he chased the model's retreating mouth and deepened the kiss. For the briefest of moments, Jack kissed back, and then he pulled away with a sigh.

"Sleep well Yan, I'll see you tomorrow." Substituting a second kiss on the lips for a wonderfully quaint bow and kiss on the hand, he picked up his jacket and was gone almost before Ianto had time to recover from the unexpectedly romantic gesture.

"Damn!" he swore as he heard the front door swing shut behind the American. Keeping to this seven dates thing was going to be harder than he expected, now that he knew what a fucking great kisser Jack really was.


	16. Road Trip

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- I didn't actually expect to be posting this chapter before Wednesday, but thanks to my extraordinary speed-Shakespeare-reading skills and my lovely beta, here it is. Hope you enjoy. (Yeah, I know I promised London, but it's the London trip, ok?) As always, huge thanks to my reviewers.**

**Massive thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the drama and the many random deaths. XD  
**

**Post-It Count: 56**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Road Trip**

-

"Mmmmergh!" Tosh mumbled as the doorbell jolted her from her beauty sleep. Glaring at the alarm clock that had somehow miraculously failed to go off, the tech expert tugged on a dressing gown and hauled herself to the front door.

"Morning!" Ianto greeted her far too cheerfully for eight am.

"You better have coffee, Jones," she responded blearily, and the Welshman laughed.

"As a matter of fact I do; I know you too well. But you better have packed, Sato."

"Meh," Tosh gestured vaguely in the direction of the living room.

Ianto grinned. "Good. Now go and get dressed, Jack'll be here in half an hour and we can't keep him waiting, seeing as how we're tagging onto a working trip."

"You should go with him to the interview and watch him in action," Tosh suggested with a grin. "It won't be too long until all the magazines start calling you for interviews."

"Yeah, right," her friend snorted. "Now go!"

Smirking, Tosh acquiesced.

-

Half an hour later the tech expert was dressed, caffeinated and ready to go. Ianto had washed up the coffee cups and done a sweeping clean of the kitchen; so by the time Jack's impressive black SUV pulled up outside the house the two were sitting patiently waiting with their bags and coats.

As the doorbell sounded, Ianto looked at Tosh. "Is it weird that I feel strangely excited?"

The tech expert laughed. "No. It's like a school trip feeling, isn't it?" she chuckled as she opened the door.

Jack greeted them with a dazzling grin. "Morning campers!"

"You're as bad as him," Tosh mock-glared, gesturing to Ianto.

The model laughed. "Your transport awaits, milady." Grasping her hand, he bowed low and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

She blushed, looking away quickly. "You're forgiven," she murmured, turning to pick up her bag. Oh god- _Jack Harkness_ had just kissed her on the back of the hand!

It was Ianto's turn to mock-glare. "And where's my kiss?" he demanded.

Jack smirked, grabbing him round the waist and dipping him into a Hollywood kiss. Tosh, having chosen that moment to look round, looked away hurriedly, suddenly having doubts about going.

"You're forgiven," Ianto repeated his friend's words when the model released him, and Jack smiled.

"Well, let's get going then," he grinned. "Long drive ahead of us." Ever the gentleman, he took Tosh's bag from her and led the way out to the SUV, stowing both bags away neatly whilst the tech expert locked her front door.

Having handed Jack his bag, Ianto automatically laid his hand on the handle of the front passenger door. Before he could open it, however, the model swept him into another quick kiss then opened it for him before opening the rear door for Tosh. The two friends stepped inside and halted, surprised by the vehicle's occupant- they had not realised there would be a fourth member of their party.

Jack grinned. "Tosh, Yan, this is my PA, Rose. Rose Tyler, Ianto Jones and Toshiko Sato."

The blonde sprawled across the back seat looked up from her magazine and smiled.

"Hi." She looked surprised when Ianto held out a hand, but shook it anyway as she swung her feet to the floor so that Tosh could sit down.

"Pleased to meet you," the Welshman returned as he took his own seat.

Rose grinned. "So Jack, this must be your fancy boy."

Jack flipped a sweet wrapper at her as he slammed the driver's door. "Less of the lip, miss. Did you make those calls?"

Tugging a notepad out of her pocket the blonde nodded. "Yep, the hotel booking is confirmed, as is the restaurant; and you're booked into Wilf's Kitchen for tonight."

"Fabulous," the model responded as he pulled away from the kerb. "Are you joining us?"

Rose smirked. "Jack… You're taking me to London. I'm hooking up with Mickey."

The American raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, Mickey Mouse. Well, you know where we are if he stands you up."

"Oh, ye of little faith!" With an expressive eye-roll the blonde turned back to her magazine.

Jack grinned. "And now that business is out of the way…" he commented, turning on the radio, "…we can start having fun!"

It was Ianto's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Frank Sinatra, Jack?"

"Don't knock it, it's classic!" the model returned with a pout as he gestured towards the glove compartment. "Pick something else if you don't like it."

Grinning, the Welshman opened the glove compartment, and Rose looked up from her magazine.

"Finally, someone with taste!"

Tosh turned to the window to hide her smile as Jack's pout grew in intensity.

"Oi, don't forget whose car this is!"

"Sorry," Ianto murmured for no particular reason.

Rose just smirked. "I'd like to issue a complaint, sir. How come boyfriends get preferential treatment?"

Jack smirked back by way of the rear-view mirror. "Sorry honey, I don't want to shag _you_."

"And we're going back to the magazine…" the blonde announced loudly.

Jack chuckled. "Sorry about my employees, guys. My PA is wonderfully efficient, but damn is she cheeky!"

Ianto observed the exchange with mixed emotions. On the one hand, the fact that Jack asserted he didn't want to sleep with the pretty young blonde supported the case for the model being gay rather than bi. On the other hand, he might just have been saying that because Ianto was there. But the pair seemed to have an easy-going father/daughter style relationship, which could account for the lack of desire without Jack being fully gay. It was confusing…

From the back seat Tosh quietly watched the surroundings whizz by. She felt more than a little out of her depth, and not for the first time she wondered if she had been right to accept the model's invitation. It would have been awkward enough bringing herself to talk around _Jack_, never mind his PA. And she was so young, and glamorous! Beside her Tosh felt very old and out-of-place.

Rose, secure in her position in Jack's life, carried on flicking through her magazine without paying much heed to the tension in the vehicle. From her observations thus far, her employer's new boyfriend seemed nice enough. Better taste in music than Jack (not that that was difficult, in her opinion), cute and well-spoken- when he spoke, which wasn't often; but she assumed that was due to her presence. By the looks on Ianto and Tosh's faces when they got in, they hadn't been expecting to see her. Which was fair enough; why would two people not in the business expect to see their friend's PA on a road trip to London? His friend was quieter, but the pretty blonde assumed she was nice enough. Shrugging, she flicked to the next page in her magazine. There'd be plenty of time to talk to Tosh later; technically she was at work right now…

Jack frowned at the silence. He realised having Rose there might be quite awkward for Tosh and Ianto, and he kicked himself for forgetting to mention it. But really, they had asked him for a lift and he had offered one. They knew that Jack himself was going to London for work, and they knew he had a PA. Having the pretty blonde around was second nature to Jack and since everyone else in his life knew about her, forgetting to remind Ianto and Tosh had been an easy slip to make. But still- it was painfully quiet. No point forcing the conversation though; that would just make things even more awkward. Instead he let the passionate, melodic screeching of Meat Loaf fill his ears and focused his attention on driving.

Had Gwen been there, she would have exclaimed: '_Good!_'


	17. Grand Designs

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- And it actually **_**is**_** London this time! Hope you enjoy. For those of you who don't speak French, translations are provided at the end. For those of you that do, bear in mind that neither Jack nor Sarah Jane speaks the language perfectly, and therefore I am declaring any mistakes deliberate. XD As always thank you for reading and reviewing; I'd have given up a long time ago without your support. x**

**Massive thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the plotting and the cheesecake obsession lol**

**Post-It Count: 63**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Grand Designs**

**-**

Some three hours later, the quartet parted ways outside their hotel. Road-works on the journey had delayed things a little and so Jack and Rose were running late. Consequently, the model did not wait on ceremony as he dumped his bag and Rose's into Ianto's arms.

"Be a doll and check in, will you?" he wheedled. "Four double rooms, booked under 'Tyler'; and if you could dump our bags in that would be fantastic."

Ianto looked terrified. The front of the hotel made the 's back in Cardiff look shoddy.

Sensing his reticence, Jack clasped his hands together. "Please? I'll make a really bad impression if I'm late."

The Welshman smirked. "I thought you said this woman knew you?"

Pouting, the model swatted a hand at his partner. "Yeah, she does; but for the purposes of this interview she doesn't. Anyway, the photographer doesn't know me, and I don't have this restaurant eating out of my hand like the ones in Cardiff."

Stealing a quick kiss from the bemused Welshman, Jack leaned close to murmur in his ear.

"You'll be fine, I promise. Anyone gives you any trouble, flash my name at them."

"O-ok," Ianto stuttered, embarrassed beyond reason about being so transparent. It was like a delayed manifestation of star struck.

"You're an angel!" Jack returned, grabbing one final kiss before leaping back behind the wheel and slamming the door. The violinist blinked as the SUV pulled away from the kerb, then turned to Tosh.

"Well then, I think we'd better brave it!"

Tosh's expression matched her friend's perfectly as she followed him into the hotel.

Across the street, a pretty blonde smiled over the top of her cappuccino.

-

As he entered _A La Carte_ and surrendered his coat to an impeccably dressed maître de named François, Jack smiled at the sight of the pretty brunette sat at a window table, head bowed over the menu.

"Sarah Jane Smith, fancy seeing you here!" he smirked as he approached the table, and she whipped round, a huge smile breaking out over her face as she leapt to her feet.

"Jack! Oh, it's good to see you!"

"You too, my angel," he returned as he swept her into a tight hug that nearly lifted her slight figure off her feet, kissing each cheek in a typically European greeting.

This ceremony completed, he turned his attention to the woman sat calmly at the next table, a quiet smirk on her face.

"Sally Sparrow! You didn't tell me you're shooting for _Kahlua_ now, you secretive minx!"

The pretty blonde grinned. "New contract; I knew you had a couple of shoots lined up for the magazine so I thought I'd keep schtum and surprise you."

"Consider me expired of a heart attack," he returned, whilst behind him Sarah Jane and Rose greeted each other far more quietly but with no less ceremony- their friendship was an extension of Jack's with each.

"Well, shall we order?" Jack enquired presently once the party was finished with their hugs and exclamations. "I assume you'd prefer the official shot with the food on the table?"

"Look who's been doing his research," Sally chuckled, and Sarah Jane laughed.

"Jack professes to know everything, Sally."

"I do not!" the model pouted. "I only know 99.9% of everything."

The three women struggled to bite back their laughter as the maître de approached the table, frowning a little at the noise.

"Ladies, what can I get you to drink?" Jack asked, shooting a covert yet pointed look at Rose which warned her to steer clear of the alcohol. It was one of their unwritten rules.

"Oh, water will be fine," Sarah Jane responded, and the other two nodded. No-one wanted to mess up their work by surrendering their senses to the influence.

"Sparkling ok?" he checked, and once again they all nodded. He grinned.

"Very well. Deux boutailles de San Pellegrino pour les deux tables sil vous plaît François," he addressed the waiter with a smile, and François smiled back.

"Très bien, Monsieur Harkness." He melted back into the restaurant almost as subtly as he'd arrived.

Jack felt Sarah Jane's eyes on him as he perused the menu, and looked up with a smile.

"Quoi?"

She smiled back. "Parlez-vous français avec Ianto aussi?" she enquired curiously in the French that came to them almost as naturally as English in an environment, where the air was gently perfumed with French onion soup and the menu was written in the same language.

"Mais non, ca c'est un privilège pour toi seulement, ma cherie."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Oi, lovebirds, you know I'm the thick one at this table. So unless you're gonna translate the menu for me speak English, will ya?"

Jack laughed. "Why certainly, my sweet."

Sally raised an eyebrow. "God, you love the attention, don't you?"

"You'd never know he's gay with all the preening he does under our ostensibly admiring gazes…" Sarah Jane added with a smirk.

"Oi, I am still here, you know!" Jack protested with a pout. "And paying for your lunch, if you remember."

"Oh, I remember all right," Sally returned with a grin. "And I'm very grateful. But the maître de is heading our way and I've scarcely had time to read the starters."

"I'll take that as my cue to shut up then," the model smirked back; and silence reigned as they all fell to skimming the menu.

-

"Oh my goodness!" Tosh gasped as she stepped into the hotel lobby behind Ianto. "You could fit my entire flat in here!"

The Welshman echoed her gasp. "And still have room for my house," he added.

The tech expert grinned suddenly. "I don't think I even need to see the rooms to be able to tell you- this one's worth hanging on to."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell Jack you only like him for his money."

"And his looks, don't forget his looks!" Tosh returned as they finally reached the front desk.

"How may I help you?" the perfectly attired buxom brunette asked with a suitably cheery fake smile. In reality, she looked more than a little bored. Oddly, it made Ianto relax immediately.

"There's a booking under the name of Tyler…" he stated with more confidence than he had felt a second previously.

"I'll just have a look for you…" The brunette turned to her computer, and Ianto subtly leaned forward to read her name badge.

"Thank you, Suzie."

"Yes, here it is… Four double rooms, yeah?" She glanced with a frown between the pair standing before her.

"That's right," Tosh nodded. "Our companions will be joining us later."

Suzie nodded. "Alright then, rooms 401, 402, 403 and 404. These are your key-cards, two for each door. It's on the fourth floor, the first four rooms on the left hand side of the corridor. Eugene will carry your bags up for you."

"Oh, it's no trouble!" Ianto protested as Tosh collected the key-cards.

He could have sworn that Suzie muttered under her breath 'Suit yourself', but when he glanced back at her she just smiled.

"That's your decision, Sir. Have a pleasant stay."

"Thank you," Tosh closed the conversation as Ianto picked up the bags and led the way to the lift.

The pair stood in silence as they waited for it to descend, awed once more by the grandeur of the hotel.

"Fucking hell!" Ianto could not help but swear as the doors pinged open to reveal a pleasantly large mirrored space complete with a compact black leather sofa.

"Sweet mother of god!" Tosh exclaimed simultaneously. "Did we take a wrong turning somewhere and end up on the 'Pretty Woman' set?"

They stared at the sofa in disbelief, feet frozen to the spot in awe. Gradually the view was obscured as the doors slid elegantly shut in front of them and the lift ascended again. Both glanced sideways, and as they caught each other's eye they burst out laughing.

"Fuck we're bad at this!" Ianto snorted as soon as he was able to speak, beaming inside to see Tosh so happy and relaxed.

She grinned back. "Stairs?" she suggested with only the merest hint of a splutter, and the Welshman nodded.

"Stairs."

The stairs were every bit as grand as the lobby suggested they ought to be; a wide sweeping flight complete with red carpet.

"And how many megastars do you think stay here?" Tosh murmured as she accepted the gentlemanly arm Ianto offered her.

He grinned. "We like to make all our guests feel like celebrities, Ms Sato."

The tech expert chuckled. "And I still can't believe you're dating one! God, I'm so embarrassed; I couldn't think of a single thing to say to him in the car, and he was so nice to me last night."

Ianto squeezed her arm soothingly. "Hey, it's ok. I know you're not great with strangers, and the PA knocked me for six too. I mean, I knew he had one, it just didn't occur to me for some stupid reason that she'd be coming with us if he had an interview."

"Never mind, it's all new to you too," Tosh consoled as they rounded the curve of the final flight of stairs and found themselves on the fourth floor.

"Now, first four on the left…" the tech expert murmured, halting at the first door and quickly finding the corresponding set of key-cards. Pushing one into the electronic lock, she smiled as it clicked first time then swung open the door to look inside. One step inside the door she stopped short, causing Ianto to slam into her back.

"What is it?" he asked anxiously, then stared past her into the room. The bags fell unnoticed from suddenly numb fingers as once again a reflexive curse slipped out. "Shit."

The room was enormous. The entire top floor of Ianto's house would have fitted inside. On the wall opposite the door was a huge window framed by heavy ornate curtains. Against the right hand wall stood a mahogany queen-sized double bed, behind and to the left of which could be observed the door into the en-suite bathroom. Along the left hand wall ran an impressively huge floor to ceiling wardrobe unit, complete with four tall doors set in pairs, between which was set a massive ornate mirror over two stacks of four drawers. The walls and carpet were a simple cream, complete with mahogany skirting and coving. In contrast, the thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets were a deep, rich royal blue. The entire effect was stunning, and the pair lost count of the length of time they stood and gawped with the door to the corridor still wide open behind them.

"This has got to be Jack's room," Ianto concluded eventually, stooping to pick up the model's bag from where it had fallen. Carefully, almost reverently, he laid it at the foot of the bed, almost afraid to step further into the room lest the delusion of grandeur shatter into bloody fragments the longer he stood there feeling out of place.

Tosh followed him with her eyes, still stunned. The Welshman chuckled to himself as he took her hand and lead her towards the door, feeling her trailing after him with blind faith, still speechless.

"Um, Tosh?" he prompted when they stood outside the next door clutching the rescued bags.

"What? Oh, um, yes…" she stuttered, blinking as she located the correct key-card.

This time it was Ianto's turn to be cannoned into as he stopped dead one pace into the room.

"Bloody fucking hell," he muttered, staring around. The room was decorated in exactly the same fashion as the model's room next door.

"This one must be yours," Tosh decided, knowing that out of the rest of the party Ianto was the most likely to be deemed deserving of the honour of such splendid accommodations by their host.

Ianto blinked, unmoving, as the tech expert gently extricated his bag from between his fingers and laid it down by the bed.

"The rest will be smaller and plainer," she murmured almost to herself as she pushed Ianto out of the room and checked that the door was locked.

"I wouldn't count on it," Ianto muttered in response. If the generosity Jack had shown in footing the substantial restaurant bills from their first two dates was anything to go by, he had a sudden suspicion that the other two rooms would be exactly the same- even Rose's.

As it happened, he was right. A dazed Tosh claimed the room next to Ianto's for her own, then they reverently deposited Rose's bag in the final matching room before repairing to the musician's, where they sat on the bed in thoughtful silence for a few minutes.

"Ianto?" Tosh spoke at last, lying back on the fantastically comfy mattress and staring up at the ornate cream ceiling.

"Yeah?" Ianto repeated her actions, settling back next to her.

She turned her head to look him in the eye. "Marry him."

The musician chuckled. "Ha, I told you you only liked him because of his money."

"If it all went wrong, it would be one hell of a divorce settlement," Tosh murmured.

"I wonder how much a place like this costs?" Ianto mused, turning back to stare at the ceiling.

The tech expert laughed. "You certainly can't afford it on a freelance software designer's salary, even with the bonuses from helping out universities by maintaining their system security to prevent the students from hacking the grades."

"I thought as much." Ianto sat up slowly, blue eyes dancing round the room.

"Who do you reckon the female equivalent of Jack is?" Tosh wondered as she sat up too.

The Welshman shrugged. "No idea. I never was particularly interested in female supermodels."

"Would we call him a supermodel?"

Ianto raised an incredulous eyebrow, counting off on his fingers. "Calvin Klein. Armani. Marks and Spencer. H&M. Magazine photoshoots. And then smaller scale local stuff like G&D and Cymru Passion. Yes, Tosh, we would call him a supermodel- or whatever the male equivalent is."

The tech expert gave a low whistle. "Well I'm no expert on models' earnings, but I reckon that lot must add up to a cool three million a year at the very least. Ianto?"

Her anxious question brought the stunned violinist back to the present, and he hastened to apologise for his reflexive gasp.

"Sorry. Christ, no wonder he can afford four double rooms in a place like this and £50 bottles of wine!"

Tosh shrugged. "Modelling's a lucrative industry." She grinned suddenly. "Which is why I say marry the man and get yourself a whopping great divorce settlement. That way you could buy yourself a theatre or something to perform in, and make a proper business out of your passion."

Ianto laughed. "Yeah, I don't think I'd win enough in a divorce settlement to buy a _theatre_, Tosh. Tickets to every musical in the West End, maybe, but not a whole theatre."

"Fair point," the tech expert conceded with a grin. "Tell you what though, we should rearrange this afternoon and meet here."

The musician grinned back wickedly. "Oh, yeah! She's going flip when she sees this."

Tosh giggled. "You know what would be fun? If we don't tell her about Jack until we meet back up with him tonight. I mean, you haven't told her yet, have you?"

"No…" Ianto shook his head slowly, then chuckled. "No, I haven't. I've told her that I've just started seeing an incredibly sexy guy and she'll get to meet him today; but I haven't told her his name." A cheeky smirk turned the corners of his mouth upwards. "Tosh, you're evil. An evil genius, but evil nonetheless. Let's do it! I can't wait to see her face when he walks through the door tonight!"

The tech expert laughed. "Why thank you, o apprentice of mine. Now, shall we to lunch?" She assumed a fake posh accent, and Ianto laughed.

"Just give me a second to let her know," he smiled, pulling out his mobile and tapping out a quick text:

'_Change of plan- meet us in the lobby of Prince Regent at 4. x_'

"There." However, the Welshman had barely recovered his feet before his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him instantly assume that it was school lunchtime somewhere in London.

'_Ok. Tho, why? And who's 'us'? Xx_'

'_Oh, forgot 2 tell u- Tosh here 2. Will tell u y when we c u. x_'

Impatient to be at lunch, the Welshman uncharacteristically resorted to text language. Once again his phone buzzed surprisingly quickly, indicating a reply.

'_Oh, fabulous! And alright, strange man. Counting down the hours til I c u. xx_'

Smiling, Ianto closed his phone and tucked the device away before grinning at Tosh. "Well, my dearest, shall we to lunch?"

-

-

**French Translations:**

**Deux boutailles de San Pellegrino pour les deux tables sil vous plaît François = two bottles of San Pellegrino for the two tables please, Francois**

**Très bien, Monsieur Harkness = Very good, Mr Harkness **

**Quoi? = What?**

**Parlez-vous français avec Ianto aussi? = Do you also speak French with Ianto?**

**Mais non, ca c'est un privilège pour toi seulement, ma cherie. = But no, that's a privilege for you only, my dear**


	18. Twenty Questions

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- I was overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter! So glad you guys are enjoying this; thanks for reading and reviewing and I hope you like this chapter too. This one's for Carrie.**

**Language Notes- French translations at the end again.**

**Massive thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the fabby ideas and the 40 cheesecakes XD**

**Post-It Count: 66**

-

-

-

**Twenty Questions**

-

"So how long have you been a photographer?" Rose asked curiously as she observed Sally Sparrow over the top of her delicately fluted water glass. The food for Jack and Sarah Jane had been swiftly delivered, and Sally had taken the shots she needed to be able to select the restaurant photo which would head the article in the next issue of _Kahlua_. At the next table, the big cheeses had launched into both lunch and interview with gusto, leaving their subordinates to get acquainted as Sally and Rose waited for their own food. (This was not due to any oversight by the waiting staff or preferential treatment of Jack; rather the model had arranged it that way to ensure that Sally's food didn't go cold whilst the photographer performed her duties.

Camera now safely tucked away, the pretty blonde smiled at the model's PA. "I got into the business pretty much straight out of uni- I did quite a bit of work experience as part of my course and consequently got recruited before graduation by a fabulous studio. Started out as a studio assistant; but now three years on I'm going up in the world: I get to be the one taking the pictures now. I'm still contracted to the same studio, but I'm a junior partner now. What about you- how did a sassy, down-to-earth young Londoner like yourself wind up as Jack Harkness' PA?"

Rose grinned. "Lucky break. I quit school at 16, couldn't wait to get the hell out of there! Started working in a department store called Hendrick's; I don't know if you know it? Anyway, Jack used to shop there quite a bit, and I'd often be assigned to help him. He used to joke that I had the best eye for fashion in London, and that I should quit working for the store and become his personal shopper. Then the store decided that he'd be the perfect face for the new autumn range, so they set up a series of photoshoots in the store. His agent came with him, and he was so disorganised that shoot; she kept having to run round after him. In the end her patience snapped, and she rolled her eyes at him and said 'Harkness, get yourself a fucking PA. What did your last slave die of?' I was standing right next to him because I was the assistant assigned to fetching and carrying anything the store's artistic director needed- Jack asked for me specifically because we got on so well. Anyway, his agent snapped that and he just turned round to me and said, cool as a cucumber: 'Want a new job, Rose Tyler? I'll give you £35,000 a year, holiday pay included, if you come to Cardiff with me to keep me sane and protect me from her.' I thought he was kidding at first, but he was deadly serious. And the rest, as they say, is history."

"Wow, that was amazingly lucky!" Sally was suitably impressed.

Rose grinned. "Tell me about it! It's so much more fun than working as a shop assistant. Even if he is a nightmare to work for!" She deliberately raised her voice on the last sentence, and Jack glanced over.

"What's that, minx?"

The blonde smirked. "I was just telling Sally how dreadful you are to work for," she stated innocently.

Jack chuckled. "Oh, yeah, totally," he agreed. "Proper tyrant, me." Grinning, he turned back to Sarah Jane. "So, yeah, as I was saying I've been very fortunate in the people I have around me, but my PA is a cheeky cow."

Sarah Jane smirked. "Right, 'cheeky cow'. I'll be sure to mention that."

"See that you do," the model chuckled before dropping into French. "En réalité, j'adore elle. Elle est un cadeau de Dieu, et j'étais un home dément sans elle."

The journalist smiled. "Mais oui, je sais elle est très sympa. J'aime elle bien. C'est un situation chanceux." Switching back into English, she assumed her best business voice:

"Where do you hope to be in five years' time?"

"In bed with Ianto," Jack deadpanned.

Sarah Jane choked on her sip of water and glared. "Be serious, Captain! I'm trying to work here."

"Sorry," the model apologised with a winning smile, obediently launching into a meaningful answer. "Five years time?" he mused. "Professionally, I think it would be fun to have broken the five million a year mark and be internationally recognised as a supermodel. Just because I'm male doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to attain the title; and the male fashion business is an ever-growing enterprise. There are a lot more opportunities out there for me- I just need to find them. But I would love it if I maintained my contracts with Calvin Klein- I've been the arse in their underwear collection for a decade and I love working with them. Of course, in five years' time I'll be within touching distance of the term 'older man', so I think it would do them great credit if they kept me on. My 40th birthday falls just inside that five years you've specified, so this time in 2014 the tabloids will still be enthusing about my bloody huge and fabulous party. And personally? If fate is kind, I'll still be with my gorgeous Welshman."

"…Whom I'm very much looking forward to meeting later," Sarah Jane concluded with a smile, and Jack smirked.

"Now who's distracting from the task in hand?"

-

"Ok, did one of you rob a bank or something?"

Ianto and Tosh started at the rich creamy voice which sounded behind them.

"If we have, we wouldn't be shouting about it in a hotel lounge!" Ianto retorted with a grin as the pair leapt up from the unbelievably comfy lounge chairs with matching smiles to embrace the dark-skinned beauty who had made the demand.

"We thought meeting here would be fun," Tosh added as they all took a seat once more.

Lisa Hallett laughed. "Well, I've gotta say that your bank balance has a very different idea of fun to mine." She gazed around the hotel lounge in awe, then fixed her warm chocolate eyes on Ianto.

"I guess that means you've got some concerts lined up then?"

The violinist smiled. "As a matter of fact, I have."

"Then let's celebrate!" Lisa enthused. "We need some champagne."

She looked round for a waiter even as Ianto cleared his throat awkwardly. The sassy brunette turned back to face him.

"What?"

"It's a bit early for champagne, isn't it?" Tosh answered for her friend. "And don't you think we ought to wait for Ianto's boyfriend before we start celebrating?"

"Ooh yes, the mysterious boyfriend!" Lisa exclaimed, all thoughts of champagne and waiters flying straight from her mind.

Ianto smiled coyly. "He's gorgeous and funny and clever and really good-natured."

The brunette waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, you told me all that over the phone. Give me more intimate details! What's his name? Where does he live? What does he do? How did you meet? How do you feel about him? And most importantly: what's he like in bed?"

Tosh giggled as Ianto rolled his eyes at the onslaught of questions, muttering sidelong to the tech expert: "I bet there are fewer questions at Jack's interview."

Turning his most charming smile on Lisa, the musician characteristically answered the questions logically in the order in which they had been asked.

"His name is Jack, he lives in Cardiff, and he works in the fashion industry. We met in a bar when a mutual friend introduced us, and then went for dinner on the best first date ever. As for how I feel: I think I'm really falling for him. Lisa, I think he might be the one."

Immediately both musician and tech expert covered their ears and winced as their friend's squeal rang through the lounge.

"Oh, Yanno, that's fantastic!" she enthused, impulsively hugging him again with a broad grin. "Now get to the good stuff- what's he like in bed? I want all the juicy details."

Beside her, Tosh blushed. She might love a good gossip as much as the next woman, but the reticent tech expert's curiosity was much less intrusive than her friend's. She believed that what Ianto did in the bedroom was his business and his partner's, and theirs and theirs alone.

As if sensing her mood, Lisa turned to Tosh. "And hush, prude, details are necessary," she chided gently, though there was no malice in her tones and she squeezed the tech expert's hand as she turned back to Ianto.

"Now then, Casanova- spill."

"I've only known him a week!" Ianto protested, in spite of the fact that he was more than willing to discuss his frustrating situation with his friend.

Lisa shrugged. "When has that ever stopped you before? You said you really like the guy…"

"I do!" the Welshman sighed. "But he's been screwed around a lot and he's got this rule about not sleeping with guys before the seventh date."

Completely absorbed in their conversation, none of the trio registered the covert interest of the buxom blonde seated in the cluster of chairs behind them.

"Ouch!" Lisa exclaimed, seizing Ianto's hands. "You poor thing! Are you gonna stick to it?"

"Of course!" the musician replied indignantly. "I respect his wishes." Rescuing his hands from her grasp, he sighed and twiddled his fingers. "But it's so damn hard!" he confided. "Ever since Jack told me I can't sleep with him yet, all I can think about is sleeping with him!"

Lisa winced in sympathy. "How many dates to go?"

"Four," the Welshman sighed.

"Yan!" Tosh warned suddenly, and the musician glanced round, startled, his eyes lighting on the trio who had just entered. Lisa followed her friends' gaze and gasped.

"Oh my god, Yan, look who just walked in!" She stared, transfixed, at the tall dark-haired, blue-eyed Adonis.

Ianto smirked as the man's face lit up with a dazzling smile upon spotting him.

"Oh my god, he's coming over!" Lisa squealed as the model strode purposefully across the room towards them.

"Hey, gorgeous." Without regard for ceremony Jack dropped into Ianto's armchair beside him and planted a quick kiss on the Welshman's lips as he manoeuvred them so that the musician was sat half in the model's lap. Two grown men sharing an armchair was not an easy task.

Throughout the exchange Lisa sat and gawped whilst Sarah Jane requisitioned the free armchair and Rose leant over the back of Tosh's.

"Hey, could I get my keycard please?" she smiled, and Tosh nodded, finding the correct one.

"Room 404," she smiled back as she handed it over. "It's on the fourth floor, fourth room on the left hand side of the corridor."

"Thanks," the blonde grinned, blowing Jack a kiss as she straightened up.

"Have fun tonight!" the model ordered.

Rose smirked. "Yes, Sir!"

"And less of the cheek, madam!" he called after her retreating back. She turned back briefly to poke her tongue out at him as she exited the room, and he rolled his eyes.

"My elegant and highly professional PA, ladies and gentleman."

"Be nice to her, Jack, it's not like it's work hours any more," Sarah Jane chided gently as she looked around the group.

The American noticed the look and grinned. "Tosh, Yan, YanTosh's friend: this is Sarah Jane Smith. SJ; Toshiko Sato and the infamous Ianto Jones." Having performed his own introductions, he turned to the still gaping Lisa.

"Jack Harkness," he greeted her as he held out his hand. "I wish I could say I've heard so much about you, but I'm afraid Ianto hasn't even told me your name."

"L-Lisa Hallett," she stuttered, star struck.

The model rolled his eyes. "Oh god, another one." He glared at Ianto. "You didn't tell her, did you?" he accused, and Ianto smirked.

"Nope. But I don't regret it, her reaction was every bit as priceless as we anticipated," he declared, giving Tosh a high five.

This time it was Lisa's turn to glare at the musician. "You might have told me!" she whined petulantly, and he smirked again.

Jack grinned. "Oh well, no harm done. Now, shall we repair to the privacy of the suites to get ready for our night out?"

The others nodded as one, rising from the armchairs. Tosh led the way to the lift whilst Ianto hung back a little, ostensibly to give Jack a hand up.

"How much did this place cost?" he murmured, and the model frowned.

"Does it matter? Just enjoy it, Ianto."

Biting his lip, the musician immediately regretted speaking.

"Hey," Jack said softly, using his thumb to disengage Ianto's lip from his teeth. "I was booked in here before we even had a second date, so you can stop feeling guilty, ok?"

"Ok," the musician agreed, then grinned. "You've really damaged your reputation by bringing Tosh and I here though!" he chuckled as he led the way over to the lift, ignoring the retreating backs of the others as they headed up the stairs.

"Oh?" Jack enquired with a grin of his own, and Ianto laughed as he launched into the lift story.

His boyfriend was still laughing when the doors pinged open in front of them. The model smirked.

"Watch and learn, Ianto." Slipping his arm around the Welshman's waist, he guided them into the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor.

"See," he said, turning to face the musician so that they were standing nose to nose, "when the doors open, you step through them. Easy!"

Ianto flicked him on the nose. "It was the sofa that threw me."

Jack smirked. "Try it," he suggested, stepping backwards and sitting down, dragging the musician with him so that Ianto landed in his lap. Eager lips then settled on his and he immediately regretted his decision to take the lift when vivid images of staring at himself in the mirror whilst the model fucked him from behind between floors flashed through his mind. Reluctantly he pulled back, panting. "Not helping the seven date thing, Jack."

The model raised an eyebrow. "Ianto Jones…" he purred with yet another smirk. "I never had you pegged as the type."

Oh god, having Jack speaking in that tone of voice was affecting him more profoundly than having Jack kiss him! Urgently he planted his lips against the American's again; and this time they only broke apart when a faint 'ding!' and the clearing of a throat jolted them back to the present.

"Ah, sorry Eugene," Jack treated the hotel porter to his trademark winning smile as he slipped the man a fiver in a handshake. "Don't tell the ice queen on reception, will you?"

The man grinned as he stepped into the lift. "Your secret's safe with me, Mr Harkness."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Is there _anyone_ whom you don't have eating out of your hand?"

Jack chuckled. "Believe it or not, there are people out there who hate me. But let's not think about them tonight. Now, which is my room?"

Ianto never got the chance to tell him.

"Bloody fucking hell!" Lisa's exclamations could be heard right from the lift, and Jack and Ianto caught each other's eyes and chuckled.

"It's like a bloody palace in here!" the brunette proclaimed to them as they walked through the door, having followed the racket into Tosh's room.

"_How_ much did you say you're worth?" Lisa demanded of Jack, most of her initial awe banished by the fact that this was Ianto's boyfriend.

The model grinned and crossed the room to whisper something in her ear. Sarah Jane turned away to hide a smirk as the young brunette's eyes grew wide- she knew exactly what figure Jack had just imparted.

"Ianto… Marry him!" Lisa asserted, and Ianto and Tosh caught one another's eyes and burst out laughing.

The American grinned, walking over to Ianto and elegantly dropping to one knee.

"Oh, you are kidding me!" the musician exclaimed. "You won't even fuck me for another four dates and yet you're asking me to marry you?!"

Jack smirked. "Oh, I see, like that is it?" Leaping back to his feet, he swept a startled Ianto up in his arms and deposited him unceremoniously on the bed before pouncing on him.

"Jack! What the fuck are you doing?" Ianto gasped when he broke free of the model's insistent lips.

The American smirked again. "You," he said simply, with a wink at Ianto.

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Harkness. Now beg your key-card off Tosh and get to your own room; you only have an hour to get ready."

The look of horror that flashed across Jack's face was priceless, and the model bounced up immediately. "Damn, no time to lose!" he exclaimed, taking his key-card from Tosh as he grabbed Sarah Jane's wrist and dragged her out of the room behind him.

"He was joking… right?" a bemused Tosh questioned.

From the hallway, a feminine chuckle drifted back. "Yes!" the journalist's dulcet tones informed them before they heard the click of Jack's door closing.

Lisa burst out laughing. "Well, you did say you wanted him to fuck you, Yan!"

"Yes, but not like that!" the musician protested as he got shakily to his feet and made tracks for his own room. He had a horrible- or was that delicious?- feeling that one night in this hotel might serve to sever what little restraint he and Jack had between them. It was a thought which made him shiver in anticipation for what the night might bring.

-

-

**French Translations:**

"**En réalité, j'adore elle. Elle est un cadeau de Dieu, et j'étais un home dément sans elle."**

**In reality, I love her. She's a gift from God, and I would be a madman without her.**

**(This is not great French, but Jack is not perfect. Neither is Rietta.)**

**-**

"**Mais oui, je sais elle est très sympa. J'aime elle bien. C'est un situation chanceux."**

**But yes, I know she is lovely. I like her very much. It's a fortunate situation.**

**(Or Sarah Jane, for that matter.)**


	19. Friendly Fire

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- You have Amethystbutterflys to thank for this chapter- not only did she inspire the idea behind it, she stopped me screwing it up and putting it in the bin because I wasn't 100% happy with what I've written. The first 1000 words flourished with her backing, and this is the end result after my muse ran away with me. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks again for reading and reviewing, it means a lot to me.**

**This chapter is dedicated to Kelly for all her inspiration and support, and for keeping me laughing when I needed it most. x**

**Post-It Count: Lost**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Friendly Fire**

-

One hour and thirty minutes saw the quintet pushing open the door of a small, cosy looking establishment which, the gingham-curtained window informed them, was called 'Wilf's Kitchen'. Ianto, Tosh and Lisa gazed around curiously, charmed by the rustic feel of the place. Bare wooden tables were neatly set with silverware and blue checked napkins, with wooden salt and pepper pots and chunky candles providing the centrepieces. It was a far cry from the kind of establishment they had been expecting Jack to take them to, but they liked it. There was just something inherently comforting about it.

There was something inherently comforting too about the elderly man who met them at the door with a smile.

"Good god, Jack, I don't think I've ever known you be on time in your life. This must be Sarah Jane's doing."

The model laughed as he ignored the proffered hand and pulled the man into a warm embrace.

"It's good to see you, Wilf! Yeah, it's all Sarah Jane's fault. She's a damnably good influence on me."

"Well you do need one," the restaurant's owner returned with spirit as he embraced the journalist before turning back to the American.

"And who are your friends?"

Jack grinned. "Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato and Lisa Hallett, the new lights of my life. Yan, Tosh, Lisa, this is Wilfred Mott, owner of the best restaurant in London."

Wilfred raised an eyebrow. "Oh, he's a bad liar, this one. But let me show you to your seats."

Obediently they followed him.

"Not quite what I was expecting," Lisa murmured to Ianto as they trailed at the back. The Welshman shrugged. He had known Jack for precisely one week and the American had not stopped surprising him. Recollecting a certain conversation earlier in the evening, he idly wondered just how much his boyfriend was worth as he held out Lisa's seat for her then sank down beside the model. Momentarily he contemplated asking, but quickly dismissed the idea- it was unlikely that Jack would actually tell him.

"Here are your menus for tonight; and the specials are on the board. Can I get you any drinks whilst you're deciding?"

Jack glanced around the table. "Are we on wine? We could start with one bottle of red and one of white, and people can choose according to what they order."

"Fine by me," Ianto returned, and the others nodded their agreement. To be honest, as long as he didn't have to pay he'd be open to anything.

"Any particular preference?" Wilf asked Jack, and the American shook his head.

"Nah, whatever you've got is fine."

Ianto blinked. Was this really the same man who had made a point of ordering a £50 bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on their first date?

Catching the expression, Jack grinned. "Yeah, ok, I might have been showing off a little bit on our first date," he whispered. "To be honest, I'd rather share a £4 bottle of Merlot with friends than drink a £75 Sauvignon alone."

Impulsively Ianto leant over and kissed him. It seemed the only fitting response to the heartfelt statement.

Across the restaurant, a pretty blonde hid a smile behind her lifted menu.

"Know what I hate about this restaurant?" Jack commented as Wilf disappeared and they all turned their attention to their menus.

Sarah Jane chuckled. "Yes- it's all so damn good that you can never decide what to have and you curse the fact that you only get one meal here. In fact, you'll come down and see me again in a couple of weeks purely to pay Wilf another visit."

"Oh, how well you know me, SJ darling," the American smirked.

The journalist scowled. "Don't call me SJ."

"That's a point- do you prefer Sarah Jane or just Sarah?" Lisa asked, glancing round from drooling over the specials board.

"Sarah Jane," the woman in question answered emphatically. "Call me Sarah and I won't answer; call me SJ and you _will_ die slowly and painfully. Are you a straight 'Lisa', or do you have another nickname?" she enquired in return.

"Oh, Lisa works fine for me," she smiled. "But as you've probably gathered, Toshiko answers to Tosh as well, and you can abbreviate Ianto to Yan. He hates it, but he's powerless to stop us." Her smile turned to a smirk.

Sarah Jane laughed. "In that case, Ianto, I propose an alliance. Oh, and Lisa- Jack will answer to anything, be it 'gorgeous', 'arrogant git', 'bloody American' or simply a whistle."

"Is this a good point to remind you all that Jack is paying?" the model grinned.

"4 million a year, I should bloody hope so!" Lisa shot back with a smirk.

Ianto and Tosh gasped, Sarah Jane hid her smile by turning to read the specials board, and Jack laughed.

"4.2 million," he corrected without batting an eyelid.

Tosh stared at her best friend. "Ianto. Marry him!"

Ianto stared back. "Toshiko. Read the menu."

The tech expert grinned. "The scallops and wild mushroom risotto."

"I'll join you in the risotto, but I'm definitely starting with the pâté," Lisa added.

"Garlic mushrooms and stilton and broccoli quiche," Sarah Jane decided.

"Pâté and lamb shank; and I'll be nicking some of Tosh and SJ's mains," Jack reported, closing the menu.

The journalist glared. "I don't believe there is an SJ at this table, Captain."

Ianto raised an astonished eyebrow as he noted the nickname and resolved to ask about it.

Jack merely grinned. "Sorry, darling. I'll be nicking a taste of the main course from the most beautiful woman at the table."

"Now that's just getting petty," Ianto smirked as he winked at all three women and closed his own menu. "Lamb shank for me too, and I'll start with the garlic mushrooms."

"Someone's not expecting to get lucky tonight," Lisa smirked back.

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Now unless there's some gossip you're withholding from us, Miss, that would be none of us. I told you before; I'm not man enough for Jack."

The model grinned. "Oh come now, I never said that! The thing is, you're so damned manly, Ianto Jones, that I'm running scared."

The table erupted into laughter. Even Tosh and Lisa, who had both met the model for the first time in the previous 24 hours, could not picture the forward, happy-go-lucky American running scared of _anything_, much less a civilised and gentle Welshman.

"Well, you're certainly showing them a good time," Wilfred commented as he arrived back at the table with a Chardonnay and a Shiraz. "Are you ready to order?"

Jack grinned and nodded. "You know me, Wilf; master at multi-tasking. We'd like two garlic mushrooms, two pates and one scallops to start; then two lamb shanks, two wild mushroom risottos and one stilton and broccoli quiche, please."

"Of course, let me take your menus," Wilf smiled in return. "Your starters won't be a minute."

Jack grinned back, knowing the restaurant's owner had been eavesdropping on their discussion of the menu and already had the starters cooking.

As Wilf disappeared from view, Ianto, Tosh and Lisa gazed at the American in astonishment.

"What?" he asked as his friend departed.

"Impressive memory!" Lisa answered promptly. "God, I wish I had a memory that good; it takes me forever to learn the kids' names every September. Especially now that parents seem to think it's fun to give their children the most ridiculous name they can possibly think of, and then insist on it being pronounced in a way that completely goes against the spelling."

Jack smiled sympathetically and shrugged. "I might be a model, but that doesn't mean I was born without a brain. First class degree in astrophysics, believe it or not. And yes, Tosh, I would be happy to help out with your tech stuff any time you need," he pre-empted the tech expert's automatic response.

Ianto chuckled as he watched the question die on Tosh's lips, replaced by a satisfied smile, then changed the subject. "This is a lovely little restaurant by the way, Jack."

"Yeah, I had no idea it was here!" Lisa added. "How did you find it?"

Jack grinned. "I was having lunch with his granddaughter one day, and she insisted on choosing the restaurant. Brought me here, and I haven't stopped coming since."

"One of my best customers, he is," Wilf added as he arrived at the table laden with starters.

The American smiled. "You give me good reason to be," he returned as he gestured the plates to their rightful owners.

"Have you heard from Donna lately?" the restaurant's owner asked, and the model pouted.

"Not in a couple of months. Why, what's the minx up to now?"

Wilfred chuckled. "Oh, this and that. Driving John up the wall, no doubt."

"Oh, but he'd be lost without her," Jack countered, and Wilfred nodded.

"Very true. Could keep the messiest sloth in order, our Donna," he said proudly. "Well, I'll be letting you get on with your meals then."

Almost as one they thanked him, and he smiled as he retreated.

For a few moments peace reigned as they all tucked into their starters, and then Lisa began the conversation again.

"Donna?" The young woman loved meeting new people, and the brief conversation between Jack and Wilf had suggested that this Donna might well be someone she'd like to hang out with.

The model grinned. "Donna's Wilf's granddaughter, the genius who introduced me to this place. She's fabulous: a regular little firebrand, but her heart's in the right place. I've known her forever, or so it seems. Met her when she was temping for one of the agencies I was modelling for. She's got a permanent job as secretary to the Dean of the University of Oxford now- how times have changed!" A whimsical smile crossed the American's face, and he chuckled to himself before snapping back to the present with a question for his newest acquaintance.

"So, I'm guessing you're a teacher then?"

Lisa winced. "Yep- Year 1. Possibly the worst decision I ever made," she chuckled, and Ianto rolled his eyes.

"You know you love it really," he chided.

"Do I heck!" she returned hotly. "I bloody hate December- half the class are full of sniffles, and I had three kids throw up in the cloakroom this morning. I have half a mind to call in sick tomorrow just for a coffee break."

"Do." Jack's response astonished her.

"Pardon?"

He grinned charismatically. "Do. Skive work and come watch my photoshoot tomorrow. All of you. The fashion department at _Kahlua_ are lovely, and it's always a case of 'the more, the merrier.'"

Lisa gaped at him. "You know, I am so tempted to do that."

"Honestly, Harkness, you're incorrigible," Sarah Jane sighed out the line which was almost a catchphrase when it came to Jack.

The model laughed. "You'll come, won't you, SJ? I mean, you need to make sure the pictures are good enough to go with your fabulous article and all…" he wheedled.

She glared. "I won't go anywhere for anyone who calls me SJ, Captain."

"Sorry. Sarah Jane sweetheart, light of my life, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to my photoshoot tomorrow?"

The brunette considered for a moment, the grinned. "Oh, what the hell? I might as well, seeing as I'll get paid for being there."

"Exactly!" the American returned emphatically. "What about you, Ianto? Tosh? Wanna come?"

"Not tonight, Jack; we have a schedule," the Welshman deadpanned in response, prompting general hilarity once more; and a few sidelong looks from other diners.

"And you call _me_ bad?" Jack asked Sarah Jane incredulously, setting them all off again.

"To be fair, Jack, you do give him a run for his money," Lisa concluded in the journalist's stead.

The model pouted. "Oh, do tell me you don't hate me!"

Lisa smirked. "Never thought I'd see the day: I'm having dinner with Jack Harkness, the supermodel whose image covered my kitchen the entire time I was at uni, and he's asking me if I hate him?!"

"It's not that hard once you know him," Sarah Jane quipped even as Ianto shot his boyfriend a triumphant look.

"Ha! I told you not all the pictures were mine."

"I wouldn't imagine that it's hard, you are after all a woman, albeit a stunning one," Tosh murmured in response to Sarah Jane, rendering the table speechless and Ianto's small victory forgotten.

"Toshiko Sato!" Lisa gasped at last, finding her voice again. "You've changed so much since uni I hardly know you. Since when were you so dirty?"

"Since the Mistress of Fate decided to combine the Master of Sarcasm with the Sovereign of Innuendo," the tech expert returned with a grin, refilling her wineglass.

Jack winked at her across the table. "Toshiko, I like you even better. If Ianto refuses me again, will you marry me? I promise to only cheat on you with men."

The tech expert blushed scarlet as the rest laughed and Ianto pretended to attack Jack.

"Tosh, do it!" Lisa urged with a grin.

Biting her lip, she shook her head. "Sorry, Jack. You may be worth 4.2 million, but trust and fidelity are priceless."

"Damn," Jack deadpanned with downcast eyes which only stayed still for a second before darting back to Tosh's face. "And it's 4.2 million a year, actually."

She laughed. "Still not enough to sway me, I'm afraid."

Too far across the table to squeeze her hand, Ianto resorted to winking at his best friend even as he winced away from Lisa's shriek.

"Toshiko Sato, you're insane! When Jack Harkness asks you to marry him, you say YES!"

"But what about Ianto?" Tosh asked, smiling back at the violinist.

"Easy!" Lisa responded instantly. "Give it a couple of months, divorce Jack on the grounds of his infidelity, then rejoice in your huge pay-out as you push a broken-hearted Jack into Yan's arms."

The American laughed. "Now that sounds like a plan- it would fill in the time before I actually ravish Ianto nicely."

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes. "Honestly, _must _we discuss ravishing Ianto over dinner? You can be so uncouth sometimes, Jack!"

The model grinned as he considered her complaint. "You're right, honey; ravishing Ianto over dinner probably would be unduly messy. We'd be better off-"

The rest of his sentence was lost as the quintet noticed for the first time the nervous-looking teenage girl standing at Jack's elbow.

"I'm so sorry to disturb your meal, but I couldn't help noticing… I mean, I had to ask… Are you… I mean… You're Jack Harkness!" Her words came in a rush, prompting the model to bring out his most dazzling smile.

"Why yes I am. And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Sarah Jane smiled, unsurprised by her friend's sudden foray into quaint figures of speech, whilst the other three stared at him in astonishment as the girl stuttered out her reply.

"K-Kelsey Hooper. C-could I have your autograph please? I'm such a huge fan, I think you're gorgeous!" she gushed.

"Thank you! Of course I'll give you an autograph, Kelsey. Do you have a pen?" Jack asked with a smile. The others watched with interested eyes, fascinated to see the model in professional mode.

"Here." The girl held one out to him, and he winked as he took it.

"Thanks." Glancing around, he beckoned Wilf over. "Hey, you got an order pad or something I can borrow?"

The restaurant's owner shot him a sympathetic glance as he handed over the pad in his hand. "Keep it, it might come in handy," he nodded at all the heads that were turned their way.

The faintest flicker of annoyance shot over Jack's face, but in a millisecond it was gone and the model's trademark smile was back in place.

"Thanks Wilf," he winked at his friend before dashing a quick message on the pad and passing it to Kelsey.

"Oh my god, thank you so so much!" she gushed, kissing the paper and eliciting an unnoticed eye-roll from Jack's four companions. "Oh, wait 'til I tell all my friends!"

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a hot pink phone and dashed for the door- there was no signal inside the restaurant.

As soon as she was gone Jack allowed his gaze to dart around the room, quickly assessing the situation before making eye contact with Sarah Jane, who raised her brow in question. Jack nodded, then turned to Ianto.

"Yan, take Lisa and Tosh back to the hotel," he ordered urgently in a whisper. "I'll join you as soon as you can. But if you want your name out of the press, you need to leave asap."

Ianto didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing his coat, he took Lisa and Tosh by the arm and hustled them out of the restaurant without a backward glance. Breathing a sigh of mingled relief and annoyance, Jack raised an eyebrow at Sarah Jane.

"Well, here we go…"

Tapping their crossed fingers together for luck, they took a deep breath and turned to face the oncoming storm.


	20. Young Again

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Sorry for the massive delay on this chapter; I was at home over the weekend spending time with my parents rather than writing; then my muse went blank halfway through this chapter. I think my uni work killed her lol. Still, a certain sexy English architect brought her back to life. He's been proving a wonderful inspiration for this story! But not as much as Amethystbutterflys, who again inspired this chapter as a whole. Thanks again for reading and reviewing, and also for your patience. Hope it was worth the wait!**

**This chapter is dedicated to Kelly for all her inspiration and support, and for keeping me laughing when I needed it most. x**

**Post-It Count: 60- not quite sure how that happened! I must have miscounted or something.**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Young Again**

-

"Well, that went well," Lisa commented as the trio re-entered the hotel a little later.

Ianto sighed. "One of the downsides of dating a celebrity, I fear. I wonder how often it happens?"

"Well, has it happened in Cardiff?" the teacher demanded, and her friend shook his head.

"No. But then Cardiff isn't exactly the fashion capital of the Western world."

"Yeah, it's probably just a London thing," Tosh reassured him as she led the way up the stairs. Not wanting a recurrence of his earlier thoughts in the lift, Ianto was happy to follow.

"So what do we do now?" Lisa asked as they kicked off their shoes and sank down on Toshiko's bed. "Do we order room service, or do we wait for them?"

"Wait for them," Ianto answered instantly. "Jack said he'd be as quick as he can; and he's paying for all this. It would be totally unfair to start without them."

"Absolutely," Tosh agreed, sinking back to gaze at the ceiling.

Lisa chuckled. "Well, I suppose 4.2 million is worth a bit of waiting around."

"Mercenary cow," Ianto retorted, throwing a pillow at her. "I'm not interested in Jack's money. I'm interested in his-"

"-Cock," his friend finished the sentence for him, dodging another flying pillow.

"Well I can see why the two of you might get on well," Tosh grinned. "You're clearly Jack's kind of woman."

The teacher laughed. "No, Tosh, I think you are. I didn't spot him proposing to _me_."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "There's one obvious reason for that."

"And that is?"

"You would've said yes."

-

From the cover of her wine glass, the pretty blonde watched the crowd converging on Jack Harkness, noting with a smile the light and friendly way in which he treated people even though she was more than sure he was cursing inside. As for the woman who was with him… 'Sarah Jane'. Shouldn't be too difficult to track down, and yet the blonde got the feeling that it would be a fruitless enterprise: the brunette had the air of one who was more than capable of dealing with any annoyances that might come her way. No, she would be better off choosing one of the others as her mark; the younger coterie. More innocent, more gullible. This was all new to them, exciting: for Harkness and the other woman it was evidently old hat. Harkness himself was out of the question; that was the trouble with gay men. Your powers of seduction were useless for flirting your way into their confidence; and despite appearances Jack Harkness was sharp. There was no quick way, no easy path. It would take time and patience, but in the end it would be totally worth it. Smiling to herself, she drained her wineglass and slipped out, unnoticed. Too risky to stay and be the only one not begging for an autograph; definitely too risky to approach her target. The man had an astonishingly good memory, and it was more than her job was worth to raise his suspicions.

-

Totally unaware of the sharp green eyes following his every move, Jack kept his trademark grin on his face as he wielded Kelsey's pen with flair.

"Okay, I'm happy to give you all autographs," he announced to the crowd, raising his voice a little. "But this is Wilfred's business. I'll only sign for people who have bought a drink or some food. Otherwise this really isn't fair."

Catching Sarah Jane's eye, he nodded subtly in the direction of the door before beginning to sign in earnest. Nodding imperceptibly back, the brunette rose and made her way to the exit ready to let the inevitable imminent influx know the score. Her soft hazel eyes lighted on the back of a woman leaving the restaurant, and for a moment she frowned. Now that was unprecedented- everyone else in the restaurant seemed to be flooding over to worship at Jack's feet. Still, she supposed the petite blonde had some good reason for it- perhaps she was the only genuine person in the room. Doubtless half the crowd had no idea who Jack actually was beyond the enthralling notion that he was a celebrity.

-

"Do you think Jack will mind that we started the wine without him?"

Forty minutes later, the trio in Tosh's room were growing increasingly merry as their bottles of £75 Cabernet Sauvignon grew increasingly empty.

Lisa giggled. "You know, this is just like being back at university. Hanging out in Toshiko's room, drinking wine, talking boyfriends… Know what we should do?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Lisa, it's exactly like uni: lounging on 1000-count Egyptian cotton sheets drinking £75 Cabernet Sauvignon and discussing celebrities who earn £4.2 million a year. What should we do?"

"Hey, at least it's the same celebrity!" Lisa shot back as she drained her glass. "Collectively drooling over Jack Harkness was the defining trend of our uni days. Along with-"

"No!" Tosh and Ianto cut her off with a simultaneous groan.

The teacher pouted. "Aww, why not? Come on, guys, it'll be fun!"

Toshiko rolled her eyes. "We're twenty-six, Lisa, not nineteen."

"We are _not_ playing spin the bottle," Ianto added firmly.

Lisa pouted, but the other two remained unmoved. Finally she sighed. "Oh, alright then. It's no fun with only three people anyway. Truth or Dare then? Come on, give me that!"

Exchanging glances, Tosh and Ianto acquiesced cautiously, sliding the wine bottle out of Lisa's reach.

"I love you guys!" she exclaimed, hugging them impulsively and bouncing up and down on the bed, nearly spilling her wine. Ianto made a grab for it and put all three glasses down safely out of the way. An alcohol-hyped Lisa could easily murder the expensive room.

"Ok, let's start with Ianto!" she grinned, oblivious to the Welshman's removal of the alcohol. "Truth or dare, Yanno?"

"Truth!" he responded instantly. "I haven't trusted your dares since you made me snog Janet Weville and she followed me around for a month."

"You're no fun any more," Lisa pouted, looking around for her wine and scowling when she found it was gone. "Ok then… One year in a relationship with Jack where sex- _all_ types- is forbidden; or one week of mind-blowing sex with him before he dumps you?"

"One year," Ianto responded instantly. "I told you, it isn't about the money or the sex or the looks. It's about who he is as a person. He's amazing, Lisa; so caring and generous and good-natured. He makes me laugh and we have such a similar sense of humour. Even if we could only even be friends I'd willingly forsake sex entirely to keep him in my life."

Lisa raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You say that now," she smirked. "Try telling me again in two weeks when he still hasn't shagged you and you're going out of your mind, you're that horny."

Tosh threw a pillow at her. "Well I think it's sweet."

"You would," the Londoner retorted, throwing the pillow back. "Your turn, Tosh- truth or dare?"

"Truth!" she responded instantly. "You thought having Janet Weville follow you around for a month was bad, Ianto? She fucking well bit me!"

Lisa snickered. "And it was fucking hilarious!" she returned. "Ok, your question: If Jack was straight, would you marry him?"

The tech expert shook her head. "No, because you and Ianto both fancy him too. I wouldn't do that to either of you."

"You're a better woman than me, Tosh." For a second, Lisa looked abashed.

Ianto looked at her sharply. "Toshiko Sato, I know that smile. This has nothing to do with Lisa and I; you wouldn't marry him because you don't want the publicity."

"Damn, you know me too well!" Tosh grinned, and Lisa rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"And now you have to drink because you lied," she said, topping up the tech expert's glass.

"Aha, time to get my own back!" Ianto smirked once Tosh had drained her glass with a slight grimace at the amount of alcohol. "Lisa: truth or dare?"

"Dare, you boring lot!" she chose, grinning.

The Welshman raised an eyebrow. "Ok, I dare you to take this keycard, go into Jack's room and put a pair of knickers in his bed."

"Erm, I only have the ones that I'm wearing?" Lisa pointed out.

Ianto smirked. "And?"

The teacher grinned and shrugged. "Fair enough."

She disappeared into the en suite, returning a few moments later with her underwear clutched in her hand. Smirking at her friends, she quit the room. They followed her, Tosh giggling madly whilst Ianto remained characteristically deadpan. Casually entering the American's room, Lisa drew back the bedcovers with a flourish and smirked as she dropped the scarlet lacy panties in the middle of the bed then covered them up again.

"Hmm, saucy!" Tosh commented with a wink at her friend.

"Well, you know Tosh, any time you want some…" Lisa winked back, fluttering her eyelashes. The tech expert laughed. She knew perfectly well that the teacher was teasing her.

"You're awfully quiet, Yan," Lisa commented with a frown.

Her friend looked round distractedly. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, dare completed. Well done."

Turning on his heel, he walked out of the room. Tosh and Lisa exchanged glances.

'Mess,' the tech expert mouthed at her friend, and Lisa nodded.

"You know, I doubt he's like that all the time," Tosh consoled Ianto as she collapsed back onto her bed next to him. "It's probably just because he didn't have long to get ready."

"Yeah." Ianto smiled weakly, then sat up. "Right then, my turn is it? I'll take a dare off Tosh."

"Oh, will you?" Tosh smirked evilly, winking at Lisa again. "Well then, here's what you'll do. You'll get that shirt off whilst I go and fetch a couple of things."

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Ianto was fobbed off by a shake of the tech expert's head as she disappeared from the room. Shrugging, he went into the en suite to rid himself of the suit.

By the time he was down to his underwear Tosh was back.

"Yan? Are you decent?" she called as she tapped on the bathroom door, and he smiled at her propriety. She had always been the modest, considerate one, unlike Lisa, who was perfectly happy to barge in uninvited when she wanted or needed something.

"Yeah, come in Tosh," he called back, and she poked her head round the door cautiously, allowing herself an appreciative grin at the sight of the slender, toned Welshman in his navy boxers.

"Oi, madam, I'm attached!" he teased as he looked to see what she held.

She had the grace to blush as she thrust her load at him. "There, put those on, then come out and I'll tell you the final part of the dare."

"Ok," the Welshman acquiesced as she left. Shaking out the bundle she had passed him, he held up the garments to see what they were. And gasped.

"Toshiko Sato, you are fucking kidding me!"

In the main room, Tosh and Lisa fell about laughing. "You can forfeit if you like?" the tech expert suggested sweetly.

"Like hell!" Ianto yelled back, knowing even as he said the words that it was a bad idea. It was his refusal to forfeit the dare to snog Janet Weville that had led to her practically stalking him.

"What are you making him wear?" Lisa asked curiously.

Tosh tapped the side of her nose secretively. "Wait and see," she responded with a smirk.

The teacher did not have to wait long. A couple of minutes later a very embarrassed Welshman sidled out of the bathroom bedecked in a pair of chaps, hotpants, riding boots and a cowboy hat.

Lisa and Tosh fell about laughing hysterically.

"Alright, alright, I know, I look bloody ridiculous!" Ianto rolled his eyes. "Come on, laugh away, get it out of your system…"

"It suits you," Lisa eventually managed to splutter.

Toshiko laughed harder.

"I'm serious, it does!" the teacher insisted, before cracking up again.

After a minute or two, Ianto's lips began to twitch, and presently he was laughing as hard as the girls.

"Whatever it is, I can't believe you're making me do this, Tosh!" he chuckled as he finally calmed down.

"Oh, it's nothing much." Tosh turned away for a moment, fighting to get her laughter under control. "You're going to go down to the curve of the stairs and use it as a stage whilst you sing the first verse and one chorus of 'Rhinestone Cowboy'. And you're going to dance."

"Toshiko Sato, you evil bitch!" Ianto exclaimed somewhat uncharacteristically. "You'd better come and keep watch for me. Jack will kill us if we get slung out of the hotel."

"Oh, don't worry!" Lisa smirked as she ushered her friends out of the room. "We wouldn't miss this for the world."


	21. Sharing Blushes

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Apologies- I'm sorry this chapter has been so long awaited; I had a bit of writer's block. I'm afraid there may be more long delays over the next fortnight because it is essay time, so writing must take a back seat. But bear with me; I still have the plotline ticking over in the back of my mind!**

**Thanks- To all my lovely readers and reviewers for taking the time to read and leave feedback; and for being so patient waiting for the next update. You're all fantastic fantastic fantastic!**

**Once again this chapter is dedicated to Kelly, the awesome being who inspired the whole London trip and keeps me going with laughter, encouragement and flamboyant cupcakes. x**

**Post-It Count: Abandoned**

**French translations at the end as usual.**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Sharing Blushes**

**-**

"Well, that was an interesting turn of events," Jack commented as he stepped into the lift.

Sarah Jane nodded, then laughed. "God, it's a long time since I last played agent for you."

"And you still do it impeccably," the model returned, giving her a quick hug. "Thanks for tonight, ma cherie. I couldn't have got through that without you."

"Pas de problème," Sarah Jane shrugged. "Mais pauvre Ianto."

"Ce n'est pas bien," Jack agreed with a frown. "Do you think he'll stay, SJ?" he dropped back into English, his voice the colour of concern.

For once Sarah Jane did not mind the epithet as she squeezed his hand comfortingly. "I think it's clear that he likes you a lot, Jack. There's every chance that the attraction will overcome any discomfort at the thought of public attention. And talking of Ianto…"

Her voice trailed off as they stepped out of the lift and a familiar voice greeted their ears.

"_Like a Rhinestone Cowboy, riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo_…"

"Jesus wept!" Jack exclaimed, flying to the head of the stairs. "What the bloody fucking hell are they doing?!"

His voice died away as he reached the stairs and gazed down into the curve halfway down the flight, breath catching in his throat as he took in Ianto's appearance.

Oblivious to the newcomers, Ianto launched into the final line of the chorus with aplomb. Nervous and quiet at first, he had soon thrown himself into his performance with a surprising amount of enjoyment.

"_Like a Rhinestone Cowboy, getting cards and letters from people I don't even know, and offers coming over the phone…_"

Finishing with a flourish, he flung the cowboy hat dramatically in the direction of the upper landing. At the last moment, shocked blue eyes locked with his, and then Jack disappeared from view with a muffled exclamation.

"Shit!" the Welshman exclaimed under his breath, hurrying up the stairs with Tosh and Lisa in hot pursuit.

When he reached the top of the stairs, in his semi-inebriated state he was hard pressed not to laugh.

Jack was sat on the floor looking slightly dazed, a certain slightly bashed cowboy hat hanging half off his head; whilst Sarah Jane crouched anxiously beside her friend.

"Ooh, good shot Ianto!" Lisa snickered, and that was all it took. One glance at the scarlet and half-dressed Welshman and Jack collapsed in hysterics, setting everyone else off.

"Oh, fucking hell, I needed that!" the American gasped finally when they were all a little calmer. Reaching out to Ianto, he let the Welshman haul himself to his feet then stared round at the young tipsy trio.

"Now, I don't know what the hell you kids have been doing in my absence, and I'm not sure I want to know. But I do know that I still need a dinner, so what do you say we repair to Tosh's room, order room service and make a party of it?"

"Sounds like a plan!" Lisa enthused, whilst Tosh frowned a little.

"Why is it always my room?" she muttered under her breath, causing the teacher to snicker.

"We could always make it my room?" Jack offered, always the gentleman, and Ianto and Sarah Jane shuddered in stereo, the Welshman shooting the tech expert a pleading glance.

Sighing to herself, she relented. "No, it's ok. My room it is."

"Excellent!" Jack beamed. "The night is yet young- let's make the most of the time we have left."

Without further ado, he led the way to Tosh's door; and within five minutes they were settled comfortably on the bed and floor with room service on the way.

From his seat leaning against the wardrobe, Jack stared round at the younger trio with a wicked glint in his eyes before his gaze settled on his boyfriend.

"So, Ianto…" the model purred, his grin a mile wide. "You didn't tell me you do cabaret."

Ianto (now slightly more respectably dressed, having donned his shirt and once more and traded the hotpants for jeans) flushed scarlet, and Lisa laughed.

"Oh, come on, Yan, this is nowhere near as embarrassing as when you-"

Ianto clapped a hand over her mouth. "Don't say it!" he ordered. "Don't even _think_ about saying it!"

Tosh turned away to hide her giggles as Lisa freed herself and pouted.

"Aww, but Yanno, it was _so funny!_"

It was almost possible to see Jack's ears prick up. "Oh, now I'm intrigued…"

The flustered Welshman opened his mouth to snap out a reply, but to his relief he was saved by a knock on the door: room service was here.

For the next fifteen minutes or so the talk drifted in other directions as they ate. Jack had not batted an eyelid at the telltale Cabernet Sauvignon bottles lying around Tosh's room, and had promptly ordered another couple to go with the food. As a consequence, all five were slightly tipsier when Jack grabbed Ianto's hand and smirked at the Welshman.

"What?" he slurred, confused by the stare.

The model grinned. "I believe you have a story to finish, Mr Jones."

"Erm, no." Ianto attempted to extricate his appendage, but Jack had entwined their fingers together and refused to let go.

"Will you tell if I tell you mine first?"

"Yes, he will," Lisa responded before Ianto even had time to think. He glared at her even as Jack shot her a predatory smirk.

"Of course, if Ianto and I are spilling, the rest of you can all follow suit. Anyone not game can leave now."

"What if I don't want to tell you mine? This _is_ my room," Tosh pointed out reasonably.

Jack treated her to the full Harkness grin. "Ah, but that won't be an issue, Tosh, because you've already decided to stay," he pronounced with confidence.

The tech expert shrugged. "Oh well, it was worth a try!" she grinned back. "So, Jack, I believe you have a story to tell?"

Jack smirked and settled back more comfortably against the wardrobe. "Let me take you back some fourteen years," he began. "The year is 1995. The setting is the main catwalk of London Fashion week. Calvin Klein is announced, and at the end of the catwalk there appears a young lad of about 20. He has skipped a week of lectures to be here, but his tutors think he has flu. He's been having a fabulous time so far- it's his first major fashion event; his first steps out on the catwalk. He was pretty damn lucky to get taken on by Calvin Klein, actually; but really everyone knows they just wanted him cos he has a nice arse. No, really- you can tell they want him for his arse because he is modelling underwear. Today is a pair of decadently tight navy boxers. He knows he looks good in them. His music starts and he strides down the catwalk, swinging his hips. When he gets to the end, he turns a couple of times, giving that cute arse a wiggle. For a second the room goes silent bar the music; then a cacophony of wolf-whistles starts up. He grins and blows kisses before sashaying back down the catwalk with a more exaggerated hip-swing this time. He's feeling pretty damn good about himself. Until he spots the designer bearing down on him with a face like thunder. He finds himself dragged in front of a mirror and made to turn around. He gasps and turns scarlet. You see, kids, the music which accompanied his little sashay covered up a certain ominous ripping sound. He has not, as he thought, been showing off his lovely taut arse showcased in a pair of very expensive, very flattering boxers. He has been showing off his lovely taut arse hanging out of aforementioned very expensive, very ruined boxers."

Having listened patiently throughout, the younger three in the room could not help but fall about laughing. Having heard the story before, Sarah Jane turned away to hide a secret smile even as Jack held his hand up for silence.

"Oh, the story doesn't end there," he assured them. "Naturally, this was a bit of a talking point. Half the tabloids and most of the gossip magazines that week ended up with a picture of my arse printed in it. Now, my mother is an avid reader of gossip magazines."

Once again he was forced to halt in his tale as the trio who were hearing the story for the first time cracked up once more.

"Oh, that's not the worst of it," Jack cut over them, instantly attracting three wide-eyed gazes. "You'll realise when you meet her that my mother is a pretty easy-going kind of Mom; she thought it was hilarious. Anyway, she only saw the pictures in the papers. No, the worst of it was…" The model paused for dramatic effect before catching the eyes of his audience and delivering the crux of the tale: "My grandmother was sat in the front row. Boy, did she tear into me in front of the entire Calvin Klein team!"

He shuddered at the memory whilst the rest of the party gave in to their mirth. Their laughter was infectious, and it didn't take more than a second or two for the model to join in.

"God, I thought that was it for me!" he chuckled. "No-one was ever going to want to hire me again after that…"

Sarah Jane smirked at him. "I still think they re-employed you just for a laugh."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Oh, well volunteered, SJ! You're next!"

The journalist raised one back. "Un transition lisse, mon serpant avec la langue argentée!" She had not been slow to note the pleasure the model took in spinning out his embarrassing moment into a short tale, with his audience hanging off every word. The man was charismatic almost to a fault, and privately Sarah Jane suspected it was this as much as his looks that made him such a successful model.

The American laughed and rose to his knees, clasping his hands near his heart. "Ma belle cherie, je fais un recours de ton coeur d'or."

The journalist chuckled even as the younger three exchanged glances.

"Wait, you speak French together?" Lisa questioned.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah. It started as a deterrent to a nosy journalist who was eavesdropping. Over the years we've used it many a time to have a private conversation in public; and it's just habit now, even when it's just the two of us. Parlez-vous français?" he dropped back into the language, and the teacher laughed and shook her head.

"Nah, I was shit at it; dropped it as soon as I could."

"Yan? Tosh?"

Tosh echoed her friend's action. "Nope, I carried Spanish on to GCSE but I dropped all languages in the sixth form to focus on science and mathematics."

"And I preferred to study Welsh," Ianto added. "It seemed more relevant."

Jack gasped theatrically. "Never!"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Don't take up acting, Jack."

The model pouted. "I still don't know why you keep denying that you're Gwen in male form."

The Welshman pouted back. "You only love me because you think I'm a reincarnation of your best friend."

"That's not true!" Jack returned, then waited the prerequisite beat. "You can't be a reincarnation of Gwen- she's not dead."

The hotel phone chose that moment to ring.

-

-

**Translations:**

**Ma cherie- My dear**

**Pas de problème- No problem**

**Mais pauvre Ianto- But poor Ianto**

**Ce n'est pas bien- It's not good**

**Un transition lisse, mon serpant avec la langue argentée- A smooth transition, my silver-tongued serpant**

**Ma belle cherie, je fais un recours de ton coeur d'or- My beautiful darling, I appeal to your heart of gold**

**Parlez-vous français?- Do you speak French?**


	22. Unfortunate Timing

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- My muse has decided it would much rather write fanfic than essays. This is good for you (I hope) but not fantastic for my grades. Oh well, it's only first year! Now if only I actually had a Ianto to set me up a caffeine drip… Hope you enjoy!**

**Once again this chapter is dedicated to Kelly, my partner in crime, who keeps me grinning like a lunatic with all the CONCERT CONCERT CONCERT hype XD**

-

-

-

**Unfortunate Timing**

-

"_Fucking hell, Harkness, could you __**be**__ any trickier to get hold of?_"

Jack smirked in the face of the impatient tones which greeted him. "It didn't occur to you that I might be avoiding you?"

Ianto and Tosh exchanged glances whilst Sarah Jane raised an eyebrow, trying to deduce from the comment whom Jack was speaking to. One possibility leapt to mind at once.

"_You don't have to go to London to avoid me, sugar-lips; it's not as if I'm going anywhere._"

It was Jack's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Oh, this is one of those 'I'm bored and lonely and miserable conversations, is it?"

"_Something like that._"

"Nobody on your corridor up for a shag? I'm sure there must be some nurses you haven't seduced yet."

Lisa turned away to hide a snigger, intensely intrigued as to who Jack's caller was. Sarah Jane made no attempt to hide her own smile, confident that her original guess was correct.

"_Believe it or not, Captain Hardness, my existence does not revolve around sex._"

Jack chuckled. "That's not what you said last night."

Ianto flinched, visibly, and Tosh slipped an arm round him.

'Don't worry, it's nothing,' Sarah Jane mouthed at him, and he smiled weakly whilst Jack continued his conversation, oblivious.

"_How would you know? You were with loverboy last night._"

The model smirked. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

Oh, now that sounded more positive! Ianto let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, and decided that the alcohol was making him paranoid. Jack wasn't stupid; if he was cheating on Ianto he'd hardly flirt with his lover whilst his boyfriend was in the same room. And why would he be cheating after a week and a mere three dates anyway?

"_I don't know; do I detect a hint of alcohol?_"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I got lynched by the press, I deserve it." He raised an eyebrow at Sarah Jane, and the journalist grinned back.

"_And what time can I expect you next week?_" The words that drifted back were tinged with distinct amusement.

"I don't know what you mean," he responded blithely, relishing the chuckle he got in reply.

"_Oh, don't play the innocent with me, Jackie-boy! You always turn up on my doorstep after unprecedented press hype. You smile away and take it as graciously as a queen, but as soon as the cameras stop flashing you slink away to your sanctuary._"

"Am I really so transparent?"

Even Ianto could have answered that one. Sarah Jane nodded her head vigorously, smirking at the model as he pouted at her.

"_You are to me. Twenty-three years of friendship is no small indicator of a man's character and moods, Jackie._"

"Don't call me that."

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at the journalist as the younger trio vividly recalled her (undisputed) claim that Jack would answer to anything. She shrugged.

"_I apologise profusely, your majesty. So, a date or time for the royal visit? The red carpet may need a quick rinse first; it's getting a bit dusty._"

Jack laughed even as he affected indignation. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint! Erm, I don't know my work schedule off the top of my head. I'll have Rose call you tomorrow?"

"_Oh, aren't we posh?_"

"This from the man with no direct personal line." The model smirked as he spoke, prompting everyone else in the room to chuckle as they wondered if the person on the other end of the line knew about the model's phone's little… accident.

"_Says the man with an honours degree who froze his portable direct line out of action_."

"Ouch, that was a low blow! And hey, who told you about that?"

Evidently so.

"_That little matter of twenty-three years again…_"

"Do I seriously have no way of making you forget that?"

Evidently it was going to be a bit of a sore point with Jack. Catching each other's eye, Ianto and Tosh came to a silent consensus that they would never let the model live it down.

"_No. You can't sneak an aspirin in here, never mind an amnesia pill._"

"Damn! Oh well, I'll just have to get you when you get out."

Oh dear, this sounded rather worrying! The younger trio exchanged concerned glances whilst Sarah Jane turned away to hide the smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

"_Congratulations padre, you've just hit on an excellent way to convince me to stay. You know, I almost think I irritate you more in here than I ever did on the outside._"

"It's a possibility."

"_Excellent! My purpose in life is complete. I can die a happy man now._"

"Don't you dare even think about it, not yet!" Jack shot back sharply, oblivious to the stares of his audience.

"_Oh, no fear, I have no plans to ring my curtain down just yet. Where would the fun be in that?_"

The model sighed. "But you've been too damn close too many times, John. I worry about you, you know that."

"_I know._" John's voice was soft, forgiving, almost a whisper. "_Don't stop. I need your worry to keep me straight._"

"Don't change," Jack whispered back, forgetting about everyone and everything around him. "I need your spirit to keep me grounded."

Ianto tried not to feel hurt. Of course, he'd only known Jack for a week. It was much to early to expect to be anyone important to the model's life.

"_Oh, hush, Mother Hen! Enough of the sentiment already- you can sob in my arms next week. Now get back to loverboy before he thinks you've deserted him_."

"Never." Jack's reply was instant. "That's not who I am. Take care of yourself, John."

"_I get no option in here_."

The model chuckled. "Oh, do you want to talk to SJ before you go?"

Frowning at the epithet, Sarah Jane tried not to look as if she had been listening in as she waited to see if the model would pass the receiver. Not that Jack would mind, of course, but it was only common decency.

"_You've been in the same room as a beautiful woman all this time and you've only just thought to hand her over?_"

Jack rolled his eyes. "I hereby announce your melancholy cured. Oh, and I have three, actually," he added with a smirk before removing the receiver from his ear and holding it out to Sarah Jane.

"He wants to talk to you."

"Oh, desperate, is he?" She raised an eyebrow as she took the phone. "Hello soldier; how are you holding up?"

"_All the better for hearing your voice,_" he purred, and the journalist rolled her eyes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Hart."

"_Oh dear, we've gone all formal? I apologise most profusely for any offence I may have unwittingly caused, Miss Smith. Please do me the honour of forgiving me and thereby restore our acquaintance to its previous level of mutual affection and respect._"

Sarah Jane laughed. "Well, maybe this once."

"_Excellent. I cannot begin to express how utterly relieved that makes me feel, Miss Smith_."

"On the contrary, you seem to have no trouble at all in that area, Captain Wickham. Now, a serious answer, if you please- how are you?"

"_I've been better,_" her friend finally confessed, and her face softened.

"I can imagine," she returned sympathetically. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"_It's a little tricky to cover in two minutes_," John returned, and the journalist instinctively knew that he was watching the clock on the wall counting down his prescribed phone time.

"Mon pauvre petit," she consoled, Jack's presence beside her making the language natural. "Call me next week?"

"_That would be good; I will. Well, I must go before I get into trouble again. Remind Jackie-boy that I need a certain set of measurements before he comes to see me, will you? He'll know what I mean_."

"I daresay I can do that. Goodnight, Captain. Take care."

"_For you, my darling, anything_."

The dialling tone cut across any reply the journalist might have made, and she replaced the receiver in its cradle gently.

Jack stared at the bedclothes. "It's all my fault, isn't it?" he whispered, so softly Sarah Jane had to strain her ears to hear him. As she made out the words, she hugged him tightly.

"No! Don't ever say that, Jack. It's not your fault in the slightest. Don't blame yourself, it won't do anyone any good."

Jack hugged her back, then looked up with a smirk that was only partially faked. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, I believe SJ was going to regale us with a story…"

The journalist smirked back. "No, actually, I was going to pass you a message. John wants some measurements when you visit?"

The model sniggered. "Oh dear, how can I have forgotten those? He'll get them; I have a cunning plan."

"God help us," Sarah Jane shot back, and Jack pouted as he surrendered the bed to the girls once more and rejoined Ianto by the wardrobe.

"Now, less of the lip and more of the storytelling!" he ordered.

She batted her eyelashes at him. "Oh, I love it when you're bossy!"

The model laughed. "By which admission I know exactly which story you don't want to tell, and must hereby blackmail you into telling it on pain of me telling it if you don't."

"Some friend you are! And some sentence that was! I see I shall have to tell the story to save you murdering it with lousy grammar."

Jack's eyes grew wide. "You can murder people with lousy grammar?!"

Too far away to pat him on the head, she resorted to rolling her eyes. "No dear, you murder _sentences_ with lousy grammar. I won't lecture you on how to murder people because I don't have sufficient technical knowledge."

"Thank god!" the model returned with a smirk, and she waved a hand to shush him before beginning her tale.


	23. Hot Flushes

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Thank you all for your patience! I handed the essay in yesterday with a huge sigh of relief. Now I just have to wait a few weeks to be told it was rubbish and I failed it… *g* I have one more essay due in, but I'm now a few chapters ahead of what's been posted in terms of writing, so hopefully I can update more regularly. Thanks as well for all your lovely reviews; they do keep me going! (And persuade me to post more frequently… XD)**

**This one is (again) for Kelly, who inspired it. I have three words for you hon: Monday Monday Monday! x**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Hot Flushes**

-

"About ten years ago, I had to do my first celebrity interview for _Kahlua_," Sarah Jane began, settling comfortably back against the pillows. "Despite appearances, celebrity interviews are actually not normally my job; I just get pushed into them every so often when our usual reporter is unable to make a deadline, or we're between celebrity reporters. I'd been working for the magazine for about two years at the time of this incident, and I'd managed to get by without running into anyone ridiculously famous. Then my editor asked me to interview Scootori Manista."

"Teenage pop sensation," Jack supplied helpfully for the benefit of the younger three.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "We _were_ teenagers ten years ago, Jack- we know who she is."

"Well I didn't!" Sarah Jane chuckled. "I'm not going to tell you how old I was a decade ago, but let's just say that it was a little past the age of caring about teenage pop sensations. Anyway, the format of celebrity interviews back then was much as it is now: a conversation over lunch in a suitably posh restaurant, then a photoshoot the same day or the day after. On the day of my interview with Scootori Manista, I was running late. My son- he was four then- had been sent home from school ill, and it took forever to find someone to look after him whilst I did the interview. As a consequence, as I hurried towards the restaurant I wasn't really looking where I was going."

Her audience exchanged smirks, all confident that they knew where she was going. The journalist smiled ruefully.

"Next think I know, I'm pitching forwards; then my knees slam into the pavement and my palms burn and my cheeks flame absolutely scarlet as I slowly pick myself up and look around to try and figure out what happened. Then I feel a strange sensation on my right leg. I look down, and there is a somewhat excited Chihuahua… Well, you can imagine what it was doing. I'm pretty sure that's what I stumbled over; but evidently it recovered quicker than I did. If it were possible, my face went even redder."

By this point Sarah Jane's cheeks were beginning to flush at the mere recollection whilst everyone else in the room did their best to control their sniggers.

"I reached down and tried to disengage the dog, but it was pretty determined. To my relief, another pair of hands appeared and lifted it firmly away. I straightened up and my eyes met those of a young lady who was apologising profusely. I think she was nearly as embarrassed as I was. Anyway, I was now shamefully late, so I brushed aside her apologies as gracefully as I could and hastened into the restaurant, hoping I didn't look too much of a mess. To my surprise, the host informed me that my interviewee was yet to arrive. Breathing a sigh of relief, I let him lead me to our table and sipped a glass of water, reading through my preparatory notes as I regained my inner balance. About five minutes later, the host comes over again with someone in tow. But I'm too absorbed in my notes to notice until I hear voices:

'Your table, Miss Manista.'

'Thank you. Oh, I'm so sorry I'm late, I was just on my way when my dog…'"

There was no need for her to say any more: her four companions fell about in hysterics. The journalist glared at Jack.

"One day I will get my revenge for you forcing me to tell that story, Harkness."

The model laughed. "Oh, come on; if that's not a claim to fame then I don't know what is!"

"Actually, you're my claim to fame, dear," Sarah Jane shot back, before chuckling and turning regretfully to the others.

"Believe me, I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me."

"Hey hey, the interview came out ok in the end," Jack consoled, and she shrugged.

"Yeah, that didn't exactly help much though." Shaking her head, she glanced around the other three. "Right, who's next?"

The model chuckled. "Well since Lisa was so keen to make Ianto tell his, I reckon it should be her turn next." He smirked at the teacher, and she grinned back.

"Fine by me," she shrugged. "Though I have to tell you, I can't hope to top that. And I _definitely_ can't top Ianto's."

"Just tell the story, Hallett!" the Welshman growled, earning himself a smirk of his own.

"Alright, alright, hold your horses! I'm getting there!" Lisa returned as she crossed her ankles and leaned back on her palms.

"Now, my most embarrassing moment? You'll need a bit of back-story first. When I started university, I met this amazing guy. He was smart, he was sexy, he was thoughtful and generous and polite; a real gentleman. I got pretty smitten, pretty fast. He seemed to like me too; and we hung out quite a lot, meeting for drinks and coffees and stuff. He didn't actually try anything on, but I just figured he was shy or too much of a gentleman. So I started trying to figure out ways to let him know that it was ok, I was more than happy to have him make a move on me. I was a little bit disillusioned in those days; I knew what the 'shag-you-once-then-ditch-you-cruelly' guys liked to see a girl wearing, and I assumed that all guys liked that. So my skirts gradually became shorter and shorter and my necklines lower and lower until I was positively a slut. Still he didn't try anything; he didn't even seem to notice. Sure, he paid me compliments, told me I looked gorgeous or he liked my hair or I had wonderful eyes or whatnot; but he never once tried to rip my clothes off. I was confused.

I talked to my flatmates about it, and the girls said I should just get over myself and snog him. But this lovely guy was a gentleman, and I got the impression he was the traditional, macho pride type who needed be the one doing the asking. So, since the obvious approach hadn't worked, I tried the subtle approach, dropping compliments and hints whenever we met. Still, nothing. I was about to give up when he invited me round to his flat one Saturday to hang out. I was over the moon. I spent ages getting ready, choosing my outfit really carefully and making sure my make-up was perfect. I was confident that that was the day.

Well, I got to his flat and it was surprisingly tidy. He let me in, gave me a hug and went to make coffee. Then, drinks in hand, he led me down the corridor to his bedroom. My heart leapt into my throat as I hurried after him, wondering what the room would be like. The first thing I noticed was how pristine the place was- it was literally _spotless. _The second thing I noticed was the noticeboard- or rather, the collection of images on the noticeboard. It was a veritable museum of underwear ads featuring a certain incredibly sexy model. A certain incredibly sexy _male_ model."

Here she paused to wink at the American lounging against the wardrobe.

"My reaction? 'Oh my goodness, I _love_ Jack Harkness!' I grinned. He cleared his throat awkwardly. I turned and looked at him, then back at the noticeboard, and then back at him. Finally the penny dropped, and I saw him clearly for the first time since I had met him. Then the evil voices in the back of my mind decided to remind me what a fool of myself I'd been making over him for the last couple of months. I seem to remember going a little numb. At any rate, I dropped the article I was holding. Which was, if you remember, a mug of coffee. A _full_ mug of coffee. Fortunately, the mug didn't break; but the carpet did acquire an impressively large brown stain roughly in the shape of Africa. It was very much a slow motion moment. Then I think we swore in stereo, then he dived into the en suite and came out with a damp cloth. So he got to his knees and started scrubbing at the floor and I was glued to the spot. I was so stricken with embarrassment that I literally could not remember how to move. As if that wasn't bad enough, the door was propped open, and the swearing had been quite loud. As I stood there like a lemon, feeling like a total fool, the door across the hallway opened. A girl looked out, looked at me, looked at the guy kneeling and scrubbing the floor, and rolled her eyes.

'Bloody hell, Ianto! Not another one…'"

Both Lisa and Ianto flushed a little as they recalled the acute embarrassment of the day, whilst the other three chuckled.

"How many were there?" Jack asked, and Tosh smirked.

"Oh, there were quite a few," she assured him. "If I heard raised voices from across the hall I'd open my door and sure enough, there'd be a shell-shocked, sluttily dressed girl in Ianto's room with a somewhat embarrassed Welshman."

Lisa grinned. "It happened a few times after me as well, apparently; though Yan tells me I'm the only one to actually ruin the carpet."

"I lost my entire deposit because of you," the Welshman groused, and the teacher chuckled.

"Well I did offer to pay it for you! But you were too damn much of a gentleman. You still are."

"Why thank you dear, shame you aren't more of a lady!" the musician shot back a touch heatedly, and she grinned.

"But where would the fun be in that?"

Jack smirked. "Tell me, Lisa, do you have a boyfriend at the moment?"

She shook her head. "Nope; I just can't seem to find a bloke and pin him down. I swear there are less men now than there used to be, and Robbie Williams is right: all the handsome men are gay."

The American chuckled at the compliment even as he shook his head. "Not all of them. Some of them are bi."

"Well, that's something, I suppose!" she grinned back, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," the model responded innocently, and Sarah Jane turned away to hide her smile. She knew that tone.

Unfortunately for Jack, the American had forgotten Lisa's profession.

"I don't believe you," the teacher returned with one eyebrow raised. "I know innocent tones, and in my experience they are a sure sign of guilt."

The model grinned, holding his hands up in self defence. "Alright, alright, you got me!" Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his wallet and rifled through it until he found what he was looking for.

"Here." Moving from his position by the wardrobe, he passed a small rectangular object to her. She took it curiously, and Tosh leaned over to take a look as well.

"Oh wow!" they breathed in stereo, and Jack and Sarah Jane exchanged amused glances whilst the younger girls drooled over the man in the photo.

A high intellectual forehead capped with messy blonde hair. Clear blue eyes alight with laughter and soft full lips twitched into a smirk. A well-cut chin and a long straight nose. And the cheekbones- oh, those cheekbones; so deliciously defined you could shatter flint on them.

"Are you telling me," Lisa began incredulously, "that _he_ is single?!"

The model shrugged. "Yep.

The teacher stared. "He's _bi_, and he's _single_?!"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You're not sounding shallow there at all, Lisa."

Jack grinned. "Interested?"

"You bet I am!"

He laughed, holding out his hand for the photo and replacing it with a business card identical to the one he had given Tosh the day before. Ianto held out his hand for the photo, and the model passed it over absently whilst remaining focused on Lisa.

"That's my landline, and hopefully I'll get a new mobile tomorrow so I can tell you that number before we go; but anyway. If you're ever in Cardiff, give me a call and I'll set the two of you up."

"Awesome!" the teacher grinned, her exclamation covering Ianto's gasp as he gazed at the picture.

"Have you got any more of those hiding away?" Tosh asked wistfully, and Jack paused to consider.

"Hmm, I dunno. I think the best I could offer would be the Head of Physics at the University of Oxford, but I wouldn't get your hopes up because he's the type to remain perpetually single."

"Never mind then," the tech expert sighed.

Leaving his place by the wardrobe, Jack moved over to the bed and took her hands in his. "It's nothing personal, honey," he reassured her, sounding alarmingly like Gwen. "You're beautiful and intelligent and caring; a real catch. But you're quite introverted- John would eat you for breakfast; and I mean that metaphorically."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Honestly, who would have thought that such a baby-face could hide such a dirty mind?" she scolded, and the brief spell of melancholy was broken as Jack moved back to his previous seat and took the picture back from Ianto, tucking it away again.


	24. Tales & Temptations

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Dedicated to all of my wonderful reviewers, with love. Hope you enjoy!**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, and for keeping me sane, laughing and craving sundaes. x**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Tales & Temptations**

-

"So, Toshiko, it would appear to be your turn to tell us a story," Jack smirked, and the tech expert winced.

"Must I?"

"Yes," Lisa responded before Jack had the chance. "You've heard all of ours. And if you tell yours, Ianto will _have_ to tell his."

"Don't let her blackmail you into it, Tosh!" the Welshman interjected quickly, and the model pouted at him.

"Aww, come on, I told you mine!"

"I don't remember making any promises to reciprocate!" Ianto shot back.

Jack leaned closer. "I'll make it worth your while…"

"Oh?"

"Oh yes." Without waiting for a reply, the model captured Ianto's lips gently in a kiss that was tender and chaste yet full of promise. The Welshman smiled as Jack pulled away, brushing his thumb over Ianto's lips as he did so.

"Ok, you've convinced me," he whispered, then turned to his friend. "Tosh, do tell! It's nowhere near as embarrassing as mine, or Jack's or Sarah Jane's."

Having lost her last ally, the tech expert sighed. "Oh, alright then. It was at my sixth form prom. I was wearing a very, very gorgeous, rather expensive dress that my grandmother had bought me for the occasion, and killer heels. My mother was always quite strict about dress, so she made it quite clear that the heels were a one-off.

Part of the celebration of our time in the sixth form was a set of awards voted on by the students: most likely to go to jail; rear of the year; that sort of thing. First millionaire..."

"I got voted that at mine," Ianto interjected, and Tosh and Lisa caught one another's eye and fell about laughing.

"Oh, shut up!" the Welshman groused, and Jack grinned.

"Ianto, marry me?"

The musician rolled his eyes. "Fuck me?"

Jack looked scandalised. "Here and now?! Ianto Jones, you dirty little exhibitionist!"

Ianto raised an eyebrow, leaning close to whisper in Jack's ear. "Fuck me and I'll show you just how dirty I can be."

Jack leaned away, raising an eyebrow in return before smirking and turning back to the tech expert.

"I'm sorry Tosh, you were saying?"

Tosh grinned. "Yeah, so as I was saying, we had all these awards. I got voted 'most likely to win a Nobel prize.' The prize-giving was up on the stage, so up I tottered in my heels. I accepted the award from the Headmaster, shook his hand, and turned to say thank you to my classmates. I never got the chance- my feet were a little uncoordinated that night. I fell off the stage. Backwards. As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, I fell directly into the arms of the guy I had fancied all year."

She blushed at the memory, and Jack chuckled.

"Yeah, but I bet he was swept off his feet and promptly asked you out."

The tech expert flushed a little more. "Well yes actually, he did. His name was Tommy and he was an absolute sweetheart, but I broke it off two weeks later because I was still so mortified about what happened at the prom."

"I'm sorry." To her astonishment, Jack sounded genuinely regretful.

"Oh, it was very civilised," she assured him. "Dating was getting in the way of my exam revision anyway; plus I was leaving for uni in September and Tommy was leaving for the army just as soon as exams were over. I didn't want to get too attached when he was going into such a dangerous career. I wasn't ready to have my heart broken."

"Wise move," Ianto complimented, shooting a meaningful glance at Jack. "You don't want to go rushing into things too quickly or too young."

The model pouted. "You mean you really won't marry me?"

The musician smirked back. "You mean you really won't take me to bed?"

"After seven dates; do be patient!" Jack responded, reaching out a hand to poke Ianto in the ribs.

The Welshman laughed. "In that case, I'll marry you after seven years."

If he had been expecting a pout, he was disappointed. Jack beamed and dragged him into a heated kiss.

As they broke apart, panting a little, Ianto rolled his eyes. "You, Jack Harkness, are drunk."

"You, Ianto Jones, owe us a story; and in the morning I will be sober."

Sarah Jane laughed. "Out of all the famous quotes you've mangled in your time, Jack, that has to be the most abused. But kudos to Ianto for the effort."

The Welshman smirked, affecting a bow. "I try my best."

Lisa threw a pillow at him. "Good. Now try your best to tell your story before I tell it for you."

Ianto gulped, sticking the pillow behind his back to make his position more comfortable.

"Well. When I was in university, I used to work in this coffee shop. It was a lovely little place, and I really liked working there. The manager was this rather stunning young lady of about 24 who was married to a guy about fifteen years older than her, and the jealous type. He used to come in sometimes and nag her a bit. We all thought he was a wanker, but she adored him.

Anyway, about six months after starting working there, I got this new phone; and it just so happened to be the same as the manager's. The day we figured this out we were grabbing a five minute coffee break during a quiet period and comparing phones for a laugh. Anyway, we were all passing our phones around and having a laugh when she remembered she had an optician's appointment, so she grabbed her phone and left. The rest of us got back to work.

That afternoon, Tosh and Lisa came to see me at work, as they often did. It was about three weeks after I'd started going out with this really cute guy, and we'd just had sex for the first time the previous night. When he left for lectures that morning, he said he'd ring when he got out of his last tutorial, at about three. So when the phone in my pocket rang at five past three, I naturally assumed it was him. Lisa was in a hyper mood because I had indulged her with a gossip fix, and she dared me to answer the phone really seductively. So I did."

Jack and Sarah Jane exchanged amused glances, both sensing exactly where this was heading. Tosh and Lisa were biting their lips to keep from bursting out laughing too soon. Ianto's face turned increasingly scarlet as he continued speaking.

"'_Hello, you've reached Ianto Jones, sex god extraordinaire who is _very_ much looking forward to a repeat performance of last night…_'"

Jack smirked, more turned on by his Welshman's husky tones than he cared to admit.

"Baby, you can answer the phone to me like that anytime."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Do you want the rest of this story or not?"

"Sorry."

"So anyway," he continued, unfazed. "I immediately had to hold the phone away from my ear as it was assaulted by a very loud, very angry rant, the long and short of which was: 'Who the hell are you? Where's Amy? You keep your filthy hands off my woman!'"

The Welshman flushed at the memory whilst his audience fell about.

"Oh, it was sooooooooo funny!" Lisa gasped, rolling on the bed in hysterics.

"What happened next?" Sarah Jane enquired with sympathetic interest even as she was unable to stop her lips twitching.

Ianto grimaced. "What happened next was that Ianto Jones, sex god extraordinaire, dropped the phone and fainted. Tosh managed to catch me as I dropped, and that was the precise moment Amy walked back in. The phone wasn't broken, nor was it hung up; and her husband's voice was still ranting. She could hear every word, and the entire café was staring at the counter. As you can imagine, Ianto Jones, sex god extraordinaire came round and promptly got sacked, with immediate effect. He did get his phone back though, and fixed up a meeting with his man to make him feel better.

It didn't work. I turned up to our meeting, whereupon I was slapped and dumped because he had become convinced that I had been lying about being gay, and that I was sleeping with Amy behind his back. All in all, it was a pretty dire day."

Wincing, he glanced down at his feet, then looked up in surprise as Jack pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and Ianto sighed, leaning against the comforting support of his boyfriend's chest. After a few moments, his lips started twitching.

"It _was_ funny though, after the event," he admitted with a hint of a smile. "I mean, 'Ianto Jones, sex god extraordinaire'? What was I thinking?!"

Jack chuckled. "Sex god extraordinaire, hmm? Marry me."

It had the desired effect of jolting the Welshman out of his slight melancholy.

Ianto sat up, rolling his eyes, and stared at the model. "Hey, I'm feeling kinda wired- what do you say I take you home and eat your pussy?"

The American gasped theatrically. "_Who told you about that?!?_" he exclaimed, clapping a hand to his mouth.

The other four fell about in absolute hysterics, and after a beat the model joined in. Some minutes later, he sat up, wiping his eyes.

"We have _got_ to do something about your taste in movies, Mr Jones."

Ianto smirked. "Well you keep refusing my advances; I figured I needed to try a different tack."

The model raised an eyebrow. "Tonight, Mr Jones, all you need to get me into bed is the clock to strike midnight."

Sarah Jane glanced down at her watch. "Shit, is that the time?" she swore uncharacteristically.

"Hey, hey, relax honey; we have three double beds between the five of us: plenty of room."

"No, no, I really shouldn't…" the journalist shook her head.

Jack stood up to add authority to his words. "No," he stated firmly. "That goes for you too, Lisa- neither of you is travelling through London after midnight on your own. SJ can have my room, and Lisa can share with Tosh."

"What about you?" Ianto asked, having already worked out the answer but needing to hear it for himself.

Jack grinned lasciviously. "I'll come in with you, if that's ok."

"Oh, um, fine," the Welshman stuttered, inwardly wondering if he would be able to control himself once Jack started undressing.

The model beamed. "Perfect! I'll just go and move my stuff across."

"I'll help," Sarah Jane offered, knowing that it would take several minutes to gather everything up- the room was in quite a state from when Jack had got ready to go out earlier.

Back in Tosh's room, Ianto took a deep breath. "Oh god."

"It'll be fine, Yan," Tosh asserted, hugging him. "If it happens it happens; trust me, he won't hate you for it. And if it doesn't happen-"

"-You can take a cold shower and feel good about respecting Jack's boundaries," Lisa finished for her, earning herself a wry smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I'd best go and see how things pan out. Night Tosh, night Lisa."

"Night Yan!" they responded in stereo, not letting him out into the corridor until they had both given him a hug for luck.

Two doors down, Sarah Jane shook her head. "Honestly Jack, how you could get the room into this state in the space of an hour is beyond me."

The model grinned. "Well it was simply _because_ I only had an hour- if I'd had another thirty minutes I would have had time to clean up a bit."

"Oh, really?" the journalist raised an eyebrow as she gathered up shirts from the bed and wardrobe whilst Jack emptied the toiletries out of the en suite. "Oh, I don't actually have anything to sleep in, by the way. Could I-"

"-Borrow a shirt?" Jack supplied, sticking his head round the door with a grin. "Sure. Um, the blue one do?"

"Perfect, thanks."

"No problem." The head disappeared again, but reappeared again a moment later. "Hey, if Ianto freaks out can I room with you?"

The journalist smiled. "Of course."

"Thanks honey."

A couple of moments later, the pair had gathered up all of Jack's things.

"Well, here goes…" the model murmured almost to himself, and Sarah Jane smiled.

"To be honest Jack, I don't think you need seven dates with Ianto to find that connection you demand. It's broadcasting loud and clear every time you're in the same room. If he's not the 'One' for you, I'll eat the January issue of _Kahlua_. So don't beat yourself if up if you do give in to lust."

Jack smirked. "Oh, lust is the right word," he murmured. "And if our every touch is so hot now, imagine how much better it will be after another four dates."

"I'd rather not, thank you," the journalist replied primly, then put a finger to Jack's lips before she pushed open the door to Ianto's room and immediately started putting the shirts in the wardrobe. Jack headed to the bathroom to dump his toiletries, uncomfortably aware that Ianto had stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers.

Once his hands were empty, the model stared at himself in the mirror for a long minute. _Could this really work?_ Could he and Ianto really spend a night in the same bed without jumping each other's bones? Jack was determined that they could, and steeling his resolve he winked at his reflection and headed back out into the bedroom to see Sarah Jane hovering by the door, empty-handed. Instantly he crossed the room to her, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Bonne nuit, ma cherie."

"Bonne nuit, mon capitaine." She returned the gesture in kind and quit the room. Jack closed the door behind her and turned to grin at Ianto before swiftly divesting himself of his trousers and shirt. Keeping his back to the nervous Welshman, he hung them away neatly in his wardrobe before finding a plain navy t-shirt and tugging it over his head.

Ianto gulped as he watched the smooth planes of Jack's back moving as the model pulled the t-shirt on.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, trying not to sound terrified.

Closing the wardrobe, the American turned with a reassuring smile. "It's fine. We're grown ups, we can handle it."

Ianto wasn't so sure. Clearly it was a while since Jack had looked in a mirror.

"Hey, if it bothers you, I can always go next door and share with Sarah Jane," the model offered with a smile, sensing his boyfriend's discomfort.

"I can't ask you to do that!" Ianto returned instantly, scandalised. "It's not fair on her."

Jack shrugged. "It's fine, she won't mind. It wouldn't be the first time we've been forced to share a bed by unforeseen circumstances."

Ianto smiled and shook his head, patting the space beside to him. "No. Come to bed."

The model smirked. "If you insist."

Pulling back the covers, he settled himself in the empty space next to Ianto and leaned over to murmur in his boyfriend's ear: "Of course, I much prefer to come _in_ bed."

That did it. The Welshman's lips sealed over the American's, and his probing tongue begged entrance. The model gasped at the unexpectedness of the onslaught, and Ianto took full advantage, pushing his tongue deep inside Jack's mouth as he rolled over to lie on top of his boyfriend, bringing their hips flush together. Instinctively the model kissed back, his tongue battling for dominance as Ianto's hands carded through his hair. As the musician's hips thrust down into his, however, the American pulled back with a sigh.

"Shit, Ianto, we can't."

Gently he rolled the Welshman off him, and with a sigh Ianto settled back into his pillow.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I don't know what came over me."

The model smirked. "Clearly it was something to do with my dazzling good looks and irresistible charisma."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Keep on talking like that and you'll set me off again; and I know you're determined Jack but there's gotta be a limit to how many times a bloke can cock-block himself on one night. I know this seven dates thing is important to you, and I don't want to push you to that limit."

Jack smiled softly. "Thank you," he whispered, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to the Welshman's lips. "You're a good man, Ianto Jones. There's not many who would have been so accepting of my… quirks."

The musician smiled back. "Just make sure I get to screw you at the end of it, okay?"

The American chuckled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He was just reaching over to switch off the light when a knock sounded at the door. Shrugging, he rose to get it.

Outside stood Sarah Jane, clad in Jack's shirt, an expression of acute distaste souring her pretty face and a pair of (used) lacy red panties held very gingerly between forefinger and thumb.

The model raised a questioning eyebrow, trying his best not to smirk.

"Found them in the bed," the journalist explained, passing them to Jack. He accepted them equally gingerly, holding them up with a frown.

"Are you attempting to cast a slur on my character, Miss Smith?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid, Captain Harkness. You haven't spent a moment in that room out of my company; and even if you do… _indulge_, from time to time, these are several sizes too small for you. No offense!" she hastily added, stopping the model's pout before it was fully established. The pouting had taken longer than usual because Jack's lips had traitorously decided that they would rather smirk instead.

"Well, I doubt it has anything to do with the hotel…" Jack mused. "I've been coming here for over a decade and nothing like this has ever happened before, even way back when the establishment was in different hands. Which can only mean one thing."

"Oh?" the journalist enquired, and the model jerked his head backwards, gesturing towards the bed, where Ianto was listening to the exchange with flaming cheeks. He knew exactly what they were talking about.

"Oh," the journalist repeated, her tones now understanding.

Slowly Jack turned so that the pair in the doorway were facing the embarrassed musician with identical expressions of amused questioning derision. The model held the panties aloft, and Ianto's cheeks reddened even further.

"Um, I can explain…" he stuttered nervously.

Jack smirked. "I'm waiting."

"Th-the Rhinestone Cowboy thing was part of a game of 'Truth or Dare'," the Welshman began, hoping they'd get the hint.

The American chuckled. "I'm not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed."

"I'm sorry?" Ianto's tones displayed evident confusion and the corners of Sarah Jane's lips twitched. Jack smirked again.

"It's good to know you're not actually in the habit of parading around prestigious hotels half-dressed singing and dancing in the stairwells. That'll serve you well when trying to stay out of the press. But on the other hand…" he paused, making his tones deliberately husky when he continued. "You can perform topless cabaret for me any time, Mr Jones…"

Ianto bit his lip as the model's words went straight to a certain part of his anatomy, and Sarah Jane stepped back with an expressive eye-roll.

"Do you _never_ stop, Harkness?... Actually, don't answer that. Since that little mystery is cleared up, I'm going to bed. Goodnight, again, Captain."

"Bonne nuit, encore, ma cherie," Jack responded, bending to kiss her on the cheek before re-entering his own- well, technically Ianto's- room and shutting the door.

"So," he said, depositing the panties on the bed in front of the violinist. "Yours?"

"God, no!" the Welshman's reply was instant, his cheeks scarlet.

Jack laughed, leaning forward so his lips were brushing the musician's ear. "Pity."

Ianto let out a shaky breath. "You really are everything but vanilla, aren't you?"

The model smirked, a fingertip tracing the curve of the Welshman's lips as he leaned in close again. "And don't you just love it?"

Soft lips brushed his earlobe in a frustratingly sensitive caress and he moaned, forcing his thoughts to his grandmother and abruptly changing the subject.

"Erm, weren't you in the middle of interrogating me, _Captain_?" If he could force Jack to embarrass him again, his blushes would draw his blood safely north and help his current situation.

Unfortunately, the model saw straight through him.

"Oh no, this isn't an interrogation!" he responded brightly, sitting up and observing Ianto with worryingly innocent blue eyes for a beat or two before he continued. "See, if I were interrogating you… you would be naked…" Fingers plucked at Ianto's t-shirt. "Your hands would be cuffed…" Wickedly enticing nails traced a ring round the Welshman's wrist. "And…" Tantalising lips returned to his earlobe. "You would be begging," the American finished, his words breathing tormentingly into Ianto's ear.

The Welshman nearly came then and there. He was painfully hard, eyes squeezed shut and breath coming in ragged gasps, driven to the edge by the physical teasing and mental images.

Satisfied, Jack sat back and picked up the panties again. "Oh, so they're Tosh's then?" he enquired conversationally, somehow managing to totally conceal the effect the unravelling Welshman was having on him.

Ianto's eyes shot open in surprise. "What? No!" he choked out, aghast at the mental image.

The American chuckled. "Ah well, I had a fifty percent chance of getting it right; and one might well imagine that there's a saucy minx hiding inside Tosh just waiting for a chance to escape."

The Welshman flushed, highly uncomfortable at being forced to think of his best friend in those terms.

Jack smirked. "I'll just go and return them, shall I?"

Without waiting for a reply or even to put some clothes on, he headed out into the corridor in his t-shirt and boxers. As the door shut behind the model, Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. How the fuck was he going to make it through seven whole dates if Jack kept torturing him like that? He really didn't want to break his boyfriend's boundaries, but when the model started talking like that… He bit his lip, worry helping to lessen his erection.

It was some five minutes before Jack returned, lascivious grin apparently fixed to his face.

By that time, Ianto had regained control of his body and hatched a cunning plan. This time, he kept the goodnight kiss impressively chaste before snuggling down on his side of the bed and drifting off to sleep with a smirk that could rival Jack's. Tomorrow, he would get his revenge.


	25. Good Morning

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**General Notes- Amethystbutterflys and I have a little game going on: we've been giving each other dares and working them into the story. If you think you noticed one, let us know...there normally a story behind said dare. (Amethystbutterflys has authorised this note)**

**To all those looking forward to Ianto's revenge… Please don't kill me.**

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I'm so glad you're still enjoying the story. =D  
**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the JB interviews and the Duracell Bunny moments. As a matter of fact, she's sat here with me right now. Be scared. Be very scared…**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Good Morning**

-

However, when tomorrow dawned bright and clear all thoughts of revenge were driven clean out of Ianto's mind by the arm wrapped around his waist. Although they had lain down on separate sides of the bed the previous evening, the Welshman awoke to find that at some point during the night he and Jack had gravitated towards one another, and they now lay together in the middle of the bed, the model's chest pressed to the musician's back. Jack's arm had wrapped around him and his hand was splayed over Ianto's chest, right over his heart.

Smiling softly to himself, Ianto carefully shifted around so he could look at Jack's face. What he saw made his heart melt. The model looked so young and innocent, lips slightly parted, surprisingly long lashes settled on soft cheeks, completely relaxed in a way that the Welshman had never seen the laidback American in the daytime.

Ianto couldn't help it- he reached out to brush a gentle hand over the sleeping American's cheek. Almost instantly the long lashes flickered and lids lifted to reveal startlingly blue eyes.

"Morning," Jack murmured, voice husky with sleep, and Ianto smiled.

"Good morning."

As the American woke up further, he realised where his arm had strayed and rolled away at once with a muttered "Sorry!"

Ianto shook his head. "It's fine, really." Following Jack, he rolled over and rested his head against the model's shoulder.

Jack smiled, pressing a kiss to Ianto's forehead and sliding an arm round his slender shoulders. The Welshman smiled back, the movement softly ruffling Jack's t-shirt. It had been so long since he had been with someone who snuggled. Adam had never snuggled- in fact, he had been against affection, full stop. Now, as Jack tenderly stroked his hair, Ianto felt his heart swell with emotion. It was probably silly to speculate so early, but he was becoming increasingly convinced that Jack was The One.

"So, are you gonna come to the photo-shoot this morning?" the model asked idly, and Ianto shifted to catch his eye and raise an eyebrow.

"I don't know, will you be wearing clothes?"

Jack chuckled, his chest reverberating pleasantly under Ianto's. "I'm a fashion model, Ianto, not a glamour model."

Ianto rested his chin on Jack's shoulder so that he could continue to watch the model's face.

"There's a difference?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Ianto, there's a difference. It's called clothes. Fashion modelling is about what you're wearing; glamour modelling is about what you're _not_ wearing. Fashion modelling is like being a living mannequin; glamour modelling is practically porn. Page three," he added for extra emphasis.

"Oh, I see." Ianto felt a bolt of relief shoot through him. There were some parts of Jack he wanted to keep all to himself.

As if reading Ianto's mind, the model smirked. "Of course, there's one big reason why I could never be a glamour model."

"Oh?" Ianto cocked an eyebrow, relishing Jack's sudden intake of breath.

In answer, the American took the Welshman's hand and guided it to his covered member.

Ianto's eyes widened, and Jack smirked again. "If fashion modelling is a predominantly female industry, glamour modelling surpasses that- it's a _completely_ female industry. Ever seen a page three _guy_? No? Didn't think so."

"You could be the first one?" Ianto suggested drily, shifting his hand and making the model gasp. "You've got the body for it."

"You really think so?" Jack linked fingers with Ianto and drew his hand away even as the Welshman frowned in astonishment at the surprise in the model's voice.

"Of course, have you seen _you?_"

Jack chuckled. "'Friends' fan are you, Mr Jones?"

Ianto smiled wryly. "Not as such; but you try living three years with Tosh and Lisa and see if _you_ escape unscathed."

A sudden thought struck him, and he propped himself up on one elbow to see his boyfriend better.

"Wait a moment, if you recognise the line, does that mean you're a fan?"

Jack smirked. "Guilty as charged."

"Oh, the girls are gonna _love_ you."

"I wasn't aware I was dating your friends."

Ianto smiled softly. "Sorry, but Tosh is like an extra limb- you either take me with her, or not at all."

"You wanna rephrase that before I assume you're demanding a threesome?"

Ianto used his spare hand to whack Jack's shoulder. "Anyway, you're the same," he accused. "I go on one date with you and Gwen starts referring to me as a friend; and somehow you managed to coerce me into telling Sarah Jane my most embarrassing story."

Jack smiled, dragging Ianto down to rest on top of him once more. "I'm never against having more friends, and Tosh and Lisa are great," he assured his boyfriend. "But you're right- now you're dating me, the three of you will be drawn inexorably into the Harkness Web."

"The Harkness Web, hmm? Does that make you a spider?"

"Yes, a Black Widow," Jack quipped.

"Aren't they the ones that eat their partner after sex? Well done, you've successfully put me off."

The model laughed. "Well actually, I prefer to eat my partner _before_ sex. Anyway, it's only the females that cannibalise their mate, and I _think_ I just proved to you that I actually am male, though you can have another grope if you're not convinced."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Harkness Web?" he prompted.

Jack grinned. "Being serious now, I do have a habit of dragging my friends together and forcing them to get on. To be friends with me is to gain many more friends by default."

Ianto's ears pricked up. "Really? Brilliant! How soon can you introduce Tosh to your Cardiff friends? She gets lonely sometimes, but she's too shy to get out much unless charismatic American models drag her out."

"Oh, I can do that alright" Jack grinned. "I have a charity benefit in a couple of weeks; want to bring her to that? Most of my Cardiff circle will be there."

"That sounds like fun; what sort of benefit?" Ianto asked, trying to ignore the stab of hurt that Jack had not asked _him_ there as his date.

As if sensing this, Jack drew him closer. "It's a Christmas meal with a silent auction," he explained. "And the reason I haven't invited you as my boyfriend yet is that the event will be publicised and I thought you wanted your name kept out of the press. I would love it if you could come though- I'm sure we can manage one night without public displays of affection."

Ianto smiled. "I'd love to come."

"Fabulous!" Jack beamed, kissing the Welshman on the nose then glancing at the clock and wincing.

"Whoops, I'd better drag my ass out of bed before we get Sarah Jane beating the door down."

Placing a swift, tender kiss on Ianto's lips, he pushed back the covers and headed for the en suite.

As he watched Jack's retreating back, Ianto pinched the back of his hand. He was with Jack Harkness. Jack Harkness was with _him_. It still seemed like a dream, albeit a very good one. But waking up next to him that morning had made it a tiny bit more real. Smiling to himself, the Welshman played the key events of the last week over in his mind. God, _had_ it only been a week? Despite the complete lack of sex so far, it felt as if he and Jack had been together forever. He was so lost in his thoughts that he scarcely noticed the bathroom door opening or the American emerging until his delicious accent cut across the Welshman's thoughts.

"So, have you decided yet if you're coming to the photoshoot?" Jack asked as he strolled out of the bathroom, fluffy white hotel towel wrapped around his waist.

Ianto stared.

"What?" the American demanded.

"We're trying to not sleep together until the seventh date and you're walking around in a _towel_?!?" the Welshman asked incredulously.

The model shrugged. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

Ianto blinked. "Well, yeah, but not in the _flesh_!" he protested, unable to tear his eyes away from the perfectly defined muscles of his boyfriend's broad chest.

Jack smirked. "Perk of dating me, darling."

Apparently oblivious to the effect he was having on the Welshman, he bent over to retrieve a pair of navy Calvin Klein's from the wardrobe drawers. Remembering how to move at last, Ianto crossed the room and moulded himself to the model's back, allowing the American to feel the Welshman's hardness pressing into his rear.

"Ianto…" he breathed, straightening up and turning round.

The musician claimed his lips in a bruising kiss, all nipping teeth and battling tongues, his hands roaming hungrily over his boyfriend's body. Though startled at first, the American quickly began to kiss back just as heatedly. As Jack ran his talented tongue lightly along the roof of Ianto's mouth, the Welshman's hips involuntarily jerked forwards, causing the model's body to react. He pulled back immediately, dishevelled and panting.

"Jack…" Ianto whispered, so softly it was barely audible, so temptingly the model almost pounced on the wanton, swollen-lipped Welshman. Almost. Jack swallowed, hard.

"Cold showers are that way," he muttered, turning away and closing his eyes.

Ianto sighed, defeated, and stepped away from the nearly naked Adonis before him.

By the time he returned from the shower, the model had quit the room. Just as well really. Seeing Jack clad only in a towel, the pearly sheen of a mist of moisture clinging to his rippling pecs and washboard abs, had done things to the Welshman that no cold shower in the world could have cured. And he wasn't referring to the sudden influx of clichés.


	26. Hero Theory

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**A huge thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I just hit 250 reviews, and I am incredibly flattered and a little overwhelmed. Thank you all so much!**

**Unfortunately I have writer's block for the photoshoot, so I have no idea when the next chapter will be posted. If you have any ideas of how to kick my muse into action, do please let me know! In the meantime, hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the **_**gorgeous**_** suited Jack and introducing me to the most fabulous drink. 3**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Hero Theory**

**-**

Ten minutes later, dressed and calm, Ianto went in search of the others. He found them in Sarah Jane's room; or at least, he presumed the girls were there from the sound of their voices. However, his attention was captivated by the clash of orange against navy and he stared at the handkerchief protruding from Jack's back right pocket.

"Oh, you are _not_ serious…" he breathed, forcing his gaze to move upwards.

Jack turned and smirked. "Well if the shoe fits…"

"It's like some twisted modern version of 'Cinderella'," Lisa chuckled.

"But who's Prince Charming?" Jack enquired innocently.

The teacher smirked. "Ianto, of course."

Ianto grinned even as the model pouted.

"Thy exquisite reason, dear child?"

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes. "Don't mind the mangled quotations," she commented. "His intelligence is limited to science, so it's how he communicates when the English language fails him."

Jack smirked. "At least I have a finely tuned working knowledge of Newton's law of universal gravitation."

The journalist smirked back. "What makes you think I don't?"

Jack waved a hand dismissively and turned back to Lisa.

"Go on then; what makes you think I'm Cinderella?"

"Well, in this instance the hanky is representative of the shoe, which only Cinderella wore," Tosh supplied in her friend's stead.

"And you're wearing it on the right," Ianto smirked. "You've read the fairytale Jack, you know Cinders was the submissive one."

"And in fact, conversation theory suggests that you're actually a woman," Lisa supplied. "You talk about feelings and TV shows and shopping- and you actually use words."

Four pairs of eyes swivelled to look at Sarah Jane, and the journalist shrugged.

"You're more comfortable in drag."

The others fell about laughing.

"But I'm the one that keeps proposing!" Jack protested. "And these are hardly rags," he added, gesturing to his Armani shirt and jacket and Levi jeans.

The other four caught one another's eye and nodded.

"PRINCE CHARMING DOESN'T POUT!" they chorused in stereo.

Jack pouted.

"Well I do apologise, but I left my ball gown at home."

Tosh's eyes widened. "You _have_ a ball gown?" She could never tell when Jack was being serious.

The model nodded. "Of course I do- wardrobe essential!"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Do you wear it with your tiara?"

"Well, technically it's not _my_ tiara," Jack pointed out.

The Welshman rolled his eyes as Tosh and Lisa exchanged bemused glances. "Semantics…"

"I see what you mean about the drag," the teacher murmured, and Sarah Jane grinned.

"The devil of it is, he _still_ looks good…"

The model smirked, but any reply he might have made was cut off by the appearance of Rose's head round the door.

"Thought I might find you here," she grinned. "It's 8am and I am reporting for duty, O Lord and Master."

"Eight already?" Jack looked startled. "Darlings, we need to move this to the breakfast room. Are you all packed? We're checking out right after breakfast- lots to do today!"

Ianto, Rose and Tosh all nodded, and Jack beamed.

"Excellent! We can run through the schedule over breakfast."

Ten minutes later saw the six seated in the dining room downstairs, breakfasts in front of them. Tosh smiled to herself as she noted both Ianto and Jack subtly checking out the other's food and drink preference and filing the information away for future reference.

Sarah Jane raised an eyebrow at the cups of industrial strength coffee Jack, Ianto and Tosh all favoured.

"Honestly, we're English, not European!" she shook her head sadly.

Jack grinned- the question of coffee versus tea as the better breakfast beverage was a long-standing matter of jokey contention between he and the journalist.

"Actually, I'm Welsh," Ianto chipped in.

"American- technically," Jack smirked.

"Japanese," Tosh supplied.

Sarah Jane chuckled. "I stand corrected." She winked at Rose. "Our alliance continues."

The PA grinned. "Together through the medium of tea we will defeat the evil, tyrannical, coffee-drinking employer!" She waved the teapot dramatically under his nose.

The evil, tyrannical, coffee-drinking employer laughed. "Someone's happy- good night last night?"

Rose smirked. "Yes it was a good night, no you can't have details. Oh, and Mickey sends his love and some cheesecake." Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a 'Playboy' and slid it across the table towards Jack.

The model laughed. "I presume you thanked him for me and gave him some beefcake in return?"

"'05 Levi ads," the blonde nodded.

"Excellent!" Jack pushed the magazine back towards her to put away for the time being. "How's he fixed for New Year's?"

Rose shrugged. "Feigning reluctance, but actually really excited."

The model beamed. "Fantastic. What about you, SJ? The spare room has your name on it…"

The journalist didn't have to think twice. "Count me in! Luke as well?"

"Of course. What about you three?" He turned to Ianto, Tosh and Lisa. "Massive party at my place New Year's Eve- in or out?"

Ianto and Tosh glanced at one another: traditionally they spent New Year's Eve at Ianto's, drinking, watching old movies and bemoaning their boyfriendless state.

"IN!" they responded in stereo, and Jack beamed.

"Fabulous! Ianto can stay with me, of course, but Tosh may have to go home in the wee hours- I'm out of bed space."

He turned to look at Lisa, who had frozen with her teacup halfway to her mouth, eyes glassy.

Jack rolled his eyes, clicking his fingers in front of her face.

She blinked, setting the cup down slowly. "Sorry, I, erm… I think I'm dreaming," she stuttered. "Jack Harkness can't really have just invited me to a New Year's party…"

The model sighed. "Can we please drop the 'Harkness' and start thinking of me as 'Jack'? You know- Ianto's boyfriend Jack. Your new friend Jack. Bloke your mate met in a bar Jack… The modelling is just a job. It's not who I am." Although he tried to keep his voice even, he could not help faint traces of annoyance, sorrow and regret from permeating his tones.

Lisa flushed. "Sorry," she murmured. "It's just still all a bit overwhelming."

"What, after years of treating me as an object suddenly finding out that I'm a person?"

This time the model made no attempt to keep the bitterness from his tones. Ianto and Sarah Jane simultaneously reached for his hand, bumping fingers before the journalist withdrew with a blush.

"Sorry, force of habit," she murmured, and Jack smiled as he turned his left hand beneath Ianto's and entwined their fingers, reaching out his right hand to squeeze Sarah Jane's.

"I'm sorry, that was harsh," he apologised to a scarlet Lisa.

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I was so focused on the cheap thrill _I_ was getting from meeting you that it didn't even occur to me to think about how you might feel."

Jack shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm used to it," he reassured her. "Friends?"

She smiled. "Friends," she agreed. "Friends with _Jack_, Ianto's boyfriend," she added for clarification with a grin.

Ianto grinned too. "I like the sound of that- 'Ianto's boyfriend.'" He squeezed Jack's hand, and the model smiled back sappily.

Tosh bit her lip. She was happy for Ianto, she really was; but comments like that exaggerated her painfully single status unpleasantly.

Noticing, Lisa squeezed her friend's hand whilst the two men remained oblivious, wrapped up in one another.

The pretty blonde on the other side of the room noticed too, and smiled.

"So, maestro, what's the plan for today?" Sarah Jane enquired, trying to draw the conversation to less depressing topics.

Jack grinned. "Well, photoshoot first, of course. That shouldn't run much beyond twelve. Then lunch at Wilf's- he's opening specially for us to make up for last night, though there will be no menu choice today I'm afraid."

"That doesn't matter," Ianto cut in, impressed by the restaurant owner's generosity.

Jack smiled. "Amazing what a spot of friendship can do," he commented, answering the Welshman's silent question: acquaintance or status?

"After lunch…" the American continued, beginning to tick things off on his fingers, "shopping! I thought we could split up for that, into girls and boys- we have such different shopping styles, and I believe I owe Ianto a date."

The Welshman smiled and squeezed Jack's hand, happy that he was getting the opportunity for some time alone with his boyfriend.

"I'll be leaving you after lunch," Sarah Jane commented regretfully. "I need to get home and work my notes from yesterday into something cohesive so Jack can have first preview before it goes to my editor."

Jack smiled. "Oh, I appreciate that, truly I do," he assured her. "But wouldn't it be quicker just to say 'I hate shopping'?"

The journalist laughed. "Damn, rumbled!"

The model smirked. "Don't tell me- I know you too well."

Inwardly Tosh sighed. She disliked shopping at the best of times: shopping in London with two shopping-inclined women was her idea of hell.

Apparently oblivious, Jack continued. "After shopping, we have afternoon tea at Claridge's-"

Ianto, Tosh and Lisa gasped in surprised delight even as Rose shook her head.

"Let me off that?" she begged her employer. "Mum will kill me if she finds out I came to London without going to see her…"

"You're excused!" Jack replied promptly. "Her mother is _scary_," he confided to the others with a grin, earning himself a good-natured slap.

"You'd better come up when you pick me up," Rose warned with a smirk. "She'd hate to miss you…"

Jack shuddered melodramatically. "And if I get out of that alive…" he pulled a face at Rose, "we'll set off back to Cardiff at about six thirty."

"Sounds like a plan," Ianto nodded, checking his watch.

Jack glanced at his own, and winced. "Oh shit, time to move people! I'm going to be late _yet again_…"


	27. Snap Happy

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Massive apologies for the really long break between chapters- I had essays to write, writer's block, and a three week holiday back home which I spent with my family instead of my laptop. However, I'm back at uni now, and with a reliable internet connection to contact my beta, so even though I have another set of essays fast approaching I should be better equipped to write now.**

**I have a love-hate relationship with this chapter- some bits I love but some bits I hate even after at least three re-writes. So if you have any feedback I'd really appreciate it. Again, so sorry for the long delay and thanks so much for the suggestions with the writer's block; they helped. =)**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the amazingly fun visit and the cocktail-based hilarity. Much love!**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Snap Happy**

**-**

"Jack Harkness! Late _again_! Now why doesn't that surprise me?" The young woman leaning on the reception desk grinned as she caught sight of the six hurrying through the door.

Jack grinned back as he swept her into a hug. "Sorry darling, the traffic is horrendous," he explained. It was only a half-lie: it _had_ been pretty bad.

The young blonde raised an eyebrow. "I see you've brought your entourage…" she commented, exchanging hugs with Rose (whom she knew intimately through her work with Jack) and Sarah Jane (who was, technically, a colleague).

The model chuckled. "Meet Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato and Lisa Hallett. Yan, Tosh, Lisa, this is Emma-Louise Cowell, fashion editor here at _Kahlua_ and soon to be my business partner."

"Pleased to meet you," Emma grinned, extending a hand to each, which they all shook willingly.

"Right, if you'll grab your security badges and come this way, there's a vague chance the studio might still be there…" she winked at Jack, and he pouted.

"Oh, that's good!" she chuckled. "But save it 'til you're on film."

As she led the way down the corridor, Lisa, Tosh and Ianto looked round curiously. Rose and Sarah Jane didn't bat an eyelid, though inwardly they both chuckled at the all too evident excitement on Lisa's face.

"Tenner says she doesn't make it through the day without making another starstruck comment," the PA murmured to the journalist.

Sarah Jane raised an eyebrow. "One problem there, my dear- I agree with you."

The blonde shrugged. "Ah well, it was worth a try…"

"Do I get the impression that someone feels they're not earning enough?" Sarah Jane teased, and Rose laughed.

"Well, you know what he's like- every penny is earned."

"And every minute is loved?" the journalist guessed.

The blonde smiled. "Something like that."

Suddenly noticing that the rest of the party had disappeared from sight, they hastened into the studio to find Jack and Emma deep in conversation about the garments laid over the bed whilst Sally Sparrow listened in and the 'new' three stared around in awe.

-

An hour or so later, the photoshoot was in full swing and Jack's 'entourage' were all a little tired of watching him posing. Rose was lounging on the floor, flicking through a magazine and texting someone. Sarah Jane was transcribing Jack's interview from tape to paper, her pen flying across her notepad as she listened back through headphones. And the trio of young friends had taken possession of the 'living room' end of the studio and curled up in the armchairs to gossip.

"So, Ianto…" Lisa purred. "_Did_ you and Jack… you know…" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Ianto glanced round to check where Jack was, flushing scarlet.

Tosh grinned. "Did you tap his keys?"

Lisa burst into hysterics. "Honestly, Tosh, no-one else could have come up with that euphemism!"

"Well, what do you call it?" the tech expert shot back. "Dusting the chalk?"

Ianto joined in his friend's hysterics as Lisa continued to laugh.

"No, Tosh," she spluttered. "I call it sex!"

"And I call it off limits until the seventh date!" Jack called over. "But it's nice to see my manly posturing isn't boring you."

The trio flushed. "Sorry, Jack!" they chorused, suddenly remembering that this was actually a working day for the model.

Jack grinned. "Oh, don't apologise to me; I could stand and pout in an earthquake. It's SJ and Sally you're disturbing."

"They're not disturbing me, I'm shamelessly eavesdropping," Sally contested.

Sarah Jane chuckled. "Jack, you laughed through the entire interview yesterday- I'm immune to being distracted by it."

The model raised an eyebrow. "Emma? You bothered by it?"

The magazine's fashion editor laughed. "I'm a busy woman, Jack. I love the fact that I can catch up with your life; work; _and_ get to know your new friends all at the same time."

"Oh, well, in that case, speak up a bit!" the American teased. "Or, you know, include us in the conversation? I can talk between shots you know."

Tosh grinned. "So, Jack, I'm guessing Ianto didn't tap your keys last night then?"

The model laughed. "No, I kept shutting down on him."

Ianto smirked. "I confess, I did try to find the right shortcuts, but I kept pressing ctrl, alt, delete instead."

"Maybe his wiring's faulty?" Sally suggested.

"Well, that's what my mother would say!" Ianto returned, and they all fell about.

"Perhaps you need to run a diagnostic?" Rose suggested with a grin.

Jack looked affronted. "No he does not! My hard drive works fine, thank you very much!"

"I know," Ianto concurred. "I definitely found the start menu."

"Oh, I see," Sarah Jane sympathised. "You were having trouble navigating it?"

"I never got the chance," the musician gave a pout to rival the model's. "He kept freezing on me."

Lisa grinned. "Maybe you need to probe him with your antivirus software."

Emma giggled. "I didn't think software was capable of probing?"

"Oh, Ianto's is," Tosh smirked. "It's AVAST."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

The Welshman smirked. "I have references."

"In that case, I greatly look forward to you filling my disc drive on the seventh date."

"Oh, that way round? And I was so hoping you'd RAM your pen drive into my USB port."

The model smirked. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

"I should bloody well hope so, since you've left me on charge for seven dates! I'll have you know I'm in danger of overheating here!"

"I do apologise, Mr Jones, but it's like I said on the first date: I need to ensure that your graphics card is compatible with my system before I install you in my PCI slot."

"Then I must save this conversation to my memory and enjoy the next four dates' worth of networking," the musician retorted.

Sally chuckled. "Is this the point where I say we might actually be done here?"

The others stared at her in astonishment, and the photographer grinned.

"I know it's not exactly what we had planned," she apologised to Emma as the fashion editor headed over, "but actually some of these shots seem perfect."

She flicked through a selection of photos on her laptop as Emma and Jack leaned over her shoulder, and all three smiled broadly.

"Oh, fabulous!" Jack exclaimed delightedly. "Sally, you're a genius! I can't believe you continued snapping all the way through that conversation."

The photographer shrugged. "What can I say? I'm an artist at heart, and you were the perfect subject just then Jack- so animated and alive. I couldn't miss the opportunity."

"I'm glad you didn't!" Emma responded. "You know, I think I was thinking too much as fashion director setting up this shoot. I'm so used to throwing clothes on Jack and using him as a mannequin- albeit a very sweet, caring and talkative mannequin!- that I forgot this shoot is about presenting him as a man. But you've captured the very essence of our beloved Captain. It's perfect."

Ianto frowned. "Ok, seriously, _how_ many people call you Captain?"

Jack smirked. "I've lost count."

Lisa smirked back. "So more than ten then?"

The model shot her a slightly confused look, and she laughed. "I teach six-year-olds, remember? Counting often requires fingers."

Jack chuckled. "Wanna know a secret?"

"Always!" the brunette responded promptly, and the American laughed.

"I'm thirty-five and have a degree in astrophysics, and I still count on my fingers."

"Good thing you earn millions rather than thousands then!" the teacher joked with a grin. "I don't have that luxury; my fingers get a bit tired on budget days."

"Well that's what you have the kids for," Ianto put in. "Two hundred and eighty extra fingers…"

Lisa stuck her tongue out at him. "Show-off."

"Well technically there are only two hundred and twenty four fingers," Tosh pointed out with the slightest of smirks. "Fifty-six of the digits are thumbs."

Jack waved a hand dismissively. "Semantics…"

Sarah Jane and Emma exchanged glances as Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"That's your stock argument winner, isn't it? You get bored of pursuing the matter so you bring out the lordly manner."

"You got it!" the fashion editor chuckled. "It's either the lordly manner or the measuring tape."

Jack pouted. "Why are all my friends so mean to me?"

"Because you don't like people who are too nice to you!" Sarah Jane returned, and the model laughed.

"True enough; though talking of people who are too nice to me, we have lunch reservations to meet."

Emma smiled. "Well it was lovely to see you again darling. I'll give you a call soon about next year. What month were we looking at? March?"

The model nodded. "It's looking that way at present. I have some stuff to shoot for CK that month, so it'll fit in nicely."

"Excellent; I should have a decent portfolio to work through by then."

Jack grinned. "Fabulous. Take care of yourself honey. I'll be seeing you in next month though, yeah? I seem to remember signing a contract for the February issue."

The fashion editor shrugged. "To be honest I haven't even started thinking about February yet; I've been having enough trouble getting January sorted. So I damn well hope you signed on for February because if I get the same model as Jan again I swear I will scream."

"Oh?" the American enquired sympathetically whilst the younger trio looked on, absorbing the business talk with interest.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Such a diva!" she complained. "And he didn't even have four million behind him to excuse it."

"Does four million excuse it?" Ianto asked mildly.

"No," Sarah Jane opined. "Jack has four million behind him yet his diva moments are few and far between."

"Why thank you darling, I try my best," the model grinned. "You're right though; having money is no excuse to behave badly."

"You are down for February," Rose interjected, turning the conversation back to business as she brandished a PDA at Jack with a grin.

The American grinned back. "Fabulous." He turned to Emma. "I'll see you next month then." He hugged her tightly, then released her so that Rose and Sarah Jane could follow suit. Once she was finally freed, the fashion editor grinned at the trio of newcomers.

"Lovely to meet you all!" she extended a hand to each of them, slipping them each a business card. "Give me a ring sometime, yeah? I'd love to get to know you better; and any friend of Jack's is a friend of mine."

As the three nodded, she turned and pulled a face at Rose. "And the same goes for you, missy- ring me!"

The blonde nodded. "Yes, ma'am!"

Whilst all this was going on, Jack had been embracing Sally. "Lovely to see you again honey! Give me a bell if you're ever in Cardiff and I'll drag you round all the sights," the model insisted warmly.

The photographer grinned. "You'll have to text me your new mobile number then."

Camera still in hand, she was perfectly poised to catch Jack's resultant pout.

"Ok, seriously, does _anybody_ not know about that?!"


	28. Acting Out

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Sorry again for the delay! I promise I will try to be quicker with the next chapter. It's nearly written, so it should be up sometime early this week.**

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing; your continued support means so much to me.**

**Special thanks to my fabulous beta Amethystbutterflys for rescuing my muse and sending it back suitably corrupted to write Janto, and also for the inordinate amount of hyperness I've enjoyed over the last week in spite of annoying essays. x  
**

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Acting Out**

-

Thirty minutes later, they experienced a collective sense of déjà vu as Jack pushed open the door to Wilf's Kitchen and the man himself rose to greet them.

"It's lovely to see you all again; I'm so sorry about last night…" Wilf apologised profusely to Ianto, Tosh and Lisa as he shook their hands. All three smiled and made dismissive murmurs whilst Jack glared at the table, which had been set for six.

"I thought you said you'd join us?" he pouted at the restaurant's owner, and Wilf coloured a little.

"I wouldn't want to intrude…"

Jack waved the protest away. "Nonsense! You wouldn't be intruding. We _want_ you to join us."

The others murmured their assent, and the model smiled.

"Come now, Wilfred, I insist."

"Oh, well, um, alright then; if you're sure…" the restaurant's owner mumbled, looking pleased as he hurried away to fetch another chair and set another place before heading back to the kitchen to see to the starters.

Meanwhile, the other six made their way over to the table, Jack and Ianto acting the perfect gentleman and pulling out the chairs for the ladies.

Ianto was about to take his own chair out when a wicked idea struck him and he grinned, sidestepping neatly and pulling out Jack's instead.

"Your throne, sweet Cinderella," he announced, bowing with a flourish.

Unperturbed, Jack dropped a worryingly elegant curtsey, blushing and batting his eyelashes as he sat down. "Why thank you, my dearest Prince Charming."

"A pleasure, my dear Princess," the musician returned with a smile as he took his own seat, whilst the others erupted into laughter at the coy seductive expression on Jack's face as he gazed at his boyfriend.

"Should I be worried?" Wilfred enquired as he returned with a tray of goat's cheese and red onion tartlets accompanied by a small rocket salad dressed with a tasteful drizzle of balsamic vinegar.

Sarah Jane raised an eyebrow at her friend as she took her starter eagerly. "It's Jack, Wilf- we'll leave it to your discretion. Either you're worried by default or nothing fazes you."

The restaurateur grinned. "I'm worried by default- the man is friends with my granddaughter!"

"Nothing fazes me," Lisa decided on her stance. "I teach primary school- even Jack's childish moments can't compete with that."

"Nothing fazes me either," Sarah Jane opined with a grin. "There simply aren't enough hours in the day to worry about Jack by default _and_ be a working single mum."

"I worry by default; it's what I get paid for," Rose countered.

"I'm naturally neurotic, so I worry by default," Ianto decided with a chuckle.

Six pairs of eyes turned to gaze at Tosh. The tech expert grinned.

"Nothing fazes me," she declared. "I've known Lisa for too long to be surprised by anything."

The teacher pouted. "Hey!"

Jack laughed. "Oh, that's good! I may have to employ you as my bitch."

It was Rose's turn to pout. "I thought I was your bitch?"

Jack patted her on the head soothingly. "There there pet, of course you are. I haven't spent the last year and a half teaching you to pout for nothing."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "_That's_ your employment basis? The ability to pout?"

"That and/or having a nice arse," Jack agreed.

"Remind me never to beg you for a job," the Welshman returned sardonically.

The American smirked. "Oh, you'd get one alright," he assured his boyfriend. "You have an excellent bottom."

"Why thank you darling; I must get Gwen to pass that information along to all the potential concert venues she can find."

Lisa grinned at Jack. "So if you select your employees based on the quality of their pouts or arses, what's your criteria for choosing a boyfriend?"

Ianto flushed. "_Lisa!_" he hissed frantically, and the teacher smirked at him before turning back to Jack.

The model smirked too. "Easy," he declared. "Sense of humour; cute smile; similar taste in DVDs… and AVAST antivirus software."

The others fell about laughing whilst Ianto flushed scarlet and Wilf looked confused.

"Oh no, Jack…" Sarah Jane deadpanned once she had recovered a little, "that handkerchief in your back pocket seems to have turned mustard!"

Jack fell about laughing whilst Ianto observed the journalist with fresh respect and the others attempted to rival Wilf's earlier expression of confusion.

"Should I be worried or impressed that you know that?" the Welshman enquired, and the woman in question grinned.

"April Fool's this year Emma, Jack and I did a spoof article on accessorising men. You should have seen the editor's face when we handed it to her!"

Jack cracked up again at the memory. "Oh, I so wish I'd been there!"

Sarah Jane grinned. "We took photos for you!" she reminded him with a chuckle.

"Not quite the same," the model pouted as Wilfred rose to clear the starters and fetch the main course.

Ianto and Rose automatically rose to help, and the Welshman fixed the table with a stare. "This conversation is paused until we get back, alright?"

Tosh grinned and saluted. "Yes Sir!"

As soon as the three had entered the kitchen, the tech expert looked round at the others. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Toshiko Sato, you have quite the cheeky streak!" Jack observed with a chuckle as he nodded his understanding of her hint. "Let's do it!"

When Wilf, Ianto and Rose re-emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later they found themselves staring at a tableau. The other four were completely still, not moving so much as a muscle as their wild mushroom risotto was placed before them. Jack had even chosen to freeze with his glass pressed to his lips, tilted just enough for the water inside to tickle them. Equally ambitious, Lisa had fixed an innocent expression on her face; a look which Ianto knew from experience she was incapable for holding for longer than a couple of minutes at most.

He grinned slyly, glancing at Rose. "What do you reckon- should we just leave them frozen whilst we eat their dinner?"

The blonde chuckled. "Hell yes! We could have so much fun with this…"

The pair looked to Wilf for support and he nodded, intrigued as to what they had in mind; though in Rose's case he could guess- he was fond of the cheeky young blonde who accompanied Jack on most of his visits.

True to form, the young Londoner did not surprise him at all as she smiled sweetly at Jack before extracting the American's wallet from his jeans' pocket and helping herself to a twenty pound note.

The faintest of amused twitches played at the corner of Jack's lips, but he did not move any further.

Pocketing the note with a shrug, Rose moved to tickle the back of her employer's neck, but to no avail- Jack remained determinedly still.

Ianto raised an eyebrow, and Rose met his gaze and smirked, before cupping the Welshman's face and leaning in.

In the twelve years of their acquaintance, Sarah Jane had never seen Jack move so fast. Almost before he had time to blink Ianto found himself in Jack's lap, being kissed to within an inch of his life.

"Mine," the American stated as he released the slightly dazed Welshman, glaring at Rose, who responded by laughing.

"Well, that worked like a dream!"

Lisa laughed too, breaking the façade of the other three. "Possessive, much?" she teased, brandishing her fork at Jack.

"Monogamous, actually," the model returned with a wink, and Ianto felt a flash of relief shoot through him as he started his own food. He had never actually intended to kiss Rose, but his boyfriend's reaction to the mere idea had pleased him inordinately.

"Oh, and Rose…" Jack continued, holding out his hand.

The young blonde grinned as she placed the £20 note in the waiting appendage. "Ah well, it was worth a try…"

Jack grinned back. "Tell you what- you can have this instead of your Christmas present if you want."

Rose gave an impressively fake gasp of surprise. "You got me a present?"

Tosh raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me- you learned to act from Jack."

The model's PA laughed. "However did you guess?"

The American pouted. "Hey, my acting's-"

"-spectacularly bad!" the other six finished for him in stereo.

The pout grew. "I'd like to see you try!"

Ianto and Tosh groaned simultaneously as Lisa promptly leapt to her feet, wringing her hands and glaring down at them.

"Out, damned spot! Out, I say! - One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't. – Hell is murky. – Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? – Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?"

Sarah Jane glanced round the table. "Do you mark that?"

Jack grinned. "Oh, eight or nine out of ten, I think- I'm impressed."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "That's the next line, idiot, not a question!"

"Well, technically it was…" the model argued whilst Lisa took her seat with a smile, pleased by her new friend's response.

"Lady Macbeth, wasn't it?" Wilfred clarified, and the teacher nodded.

"My degree is in English and Drama; I went into teaching the long way round. We had to do an entire module on Shakespeare in my first year, and a lot of it has stuck with me; especially the roles I played as part of the Drama side of my course- like Lady Macbeth."

"Never challenge her at the Shakespeare game, you will get owned," Tosh warned. "Ianto can hold his own fairly well- damn his memory!- but I'm terrible at being put on the spot. It's not that I don't know the stuff; I just don't know as much, and can't recall it at short notice."

"Wait, wait, hang about- the Shakespeare game?" Wilf questioned.

Lisa smiled. "It's easy enough- you take it in turns to quote a line of Shakespeare. If you're too slow, you get knocked out; and the last man- or woman- standing at the end is the winner. Oh, and you can't quote the same play twice in a row, or you get disqualified."

"Sounds pretty simple," Jack grinned. "Bet you anything that SJ can beat you."

"A million pounds?" Lisa suggested hopefully.

The model laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Someone's confident," he observed. "You got that kind of money?"

Lisa rolled her eyes back, grinning. "Of course I bloody haven't!"

Jack chuckled. "Then let's keep it realistic, shall we?"

Lisa laughed. "Ah well, it was worth a try…"

"Well, I'm putting my money on Wilf," Rose interjected, dropping a ten pound note in the middle of the table and winking at the restaurateur.

Jack grinned and dropped a tenner of his own to join Rose's. "Who's in?"

"I'm backing me," Lisa smirked as she added her own money.

Ianto and Tosh exchanged glances before adding a fiver each. "Lisa," they announced their collective bid.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Well then, you two had better back yourselves," he informed Sarah Jane and Wilf charismatically. "That way the money can be split two ways at the end of the game. Seems fair to me."

The other six all nodded, and Sarah Jane and Wilf chipped in their tenners.

"Wait, who's playing?" Lisa queried. "Just us three, or all of us?"

Jack shrugged. "All of us. Just you're the only three there's any point backing."

"Ok then!" the teacher grinned. "I'll start, shall I?"

The others nodded their assent, and she began. "Now is the winter of our discontent."

"Pah! Easy!" Jack poked his tongue out at her and Sarah Jane rolled her eyes at him.

"Hush you!" she scolded. "If music be the food of love, play on. Give me excess of it that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die."

Jack smirked. "Out, damned spot! Out, I say!"

"Cheater!" Ianto accused lightly, whilst Rose glared across the table at her employer.

"Oi, that was my line!"

"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears: I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him," Ianto brought the focus back to the game.

"To be or not to be, that is the question," Tosh stole yet another easy quote from under Rose's nose, and the blonde sighed.

"Why do I have to go last?" she moaned, and Jack chuckled.

"Because you were too slow to volunteer to go first. Now hush love, it's Wilf's turn."

The restaurateur smiled. "Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth: I love your majesty according to my bond, no more nor less."

"Show-off," Jack teased, and the older man smiled.

"Yes, it's sad how deficient your schooling was, isn't it?" he returned, unperturbed by the good-natured jest.

The model laughed. "Not 'deficient', Wilfred, 'different'. My education was different to yours, but no less valid."

"And mine was crap," Rose sighed as she frantically fought to find a quote in the gloomy depths of her memory. A thought struck, and she grinned triumphantly. "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

-

Forty minutes, seven dishes of wild mushroom risotto and one entire cheesecake later, the game was still going strong. Rose had barely lasted three rounds before dropping out, but declared herself pleasantly surprised to have lasted that long. Tosh had been disqualified four rounds later for repeating a play, and Jack had gone out the round after, having exhausted his knowledge of Shakespeare. To everyone's surprise, especially the musician's, Ianto managed another five rounds before running out of quotes, leaving only the three big cheeses. That had been fifteen minutes previously, and in the interim time Jack had managed to make off with more than his fair share of the cheesecake whilst the three left in the game were yet to even hesitate.

"Nay, faith, let not me play a woman: I have a beard coming," Wilf offered.

Lisa grinned. "When you durst do it, then you were a man: and to be more than what you were, you would be so much more the man," she countered.

Sarah Jane thought frantically, then sighed. "Ok, you got me- I can't think of any more."

Jack shrugged, squeezing her hand across the table. "Twenty-seven rounds is no mean feat."

"Lisa's record is fifty-eight," Ianto cut in, eyebrow raised. "She challenged her personal tutor once, and did impressively well considering the woman lectures on Shakespeare every week."

"_Fifty-eight_? Oh dear god…" Rose sighed, resting her chin on her hands.

Too far away to poke her, Jack sent her a look. "If you keep listening, you might learn something," he pointed out.

The young blonde laughed. "Quite honestly, Jack, I could listen to Shakespeare all day and not take in a single word."

Wilf chuckled. "Well, we can but try. 'Yet I'll not shed her blood, nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, and smooth as monumental alabaster.'"

"Let the forfeit be nominated for an equal pound of your fair flesh!" Lisa shot back.

In round thirty-three, she conceded the game, and Rose instantly grew happier as she and Wilf split their winnings.

Jack smirked at her. "See the point of Shakespeare now?"

The blonde grinned. "It's possible that he has some uses… And I could still own you on 'Friends' quotes, Harkness."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, keep dreaming love."

Lisa burst out laughing. "Jack honey, you're a man. It's ok to let a teenage girl beat you at 'Friends' quotes."

The model pouted. "Are you stereotyping, Ms Hallett?"

"No, just stating fact," the teacher grinned. "And, you know, prepping the ground for when I own you at that game too."

"You wish!" Jack returned. "'I smell smoke. Maybe that's because somebody's pants are on fire!'"

Ianto groaned. "Oh, please god, no! It's bad enough that the girls spent three years forcing me to watch 'Friends' without recreating university over dinner."

"You're no fun," the model pouted, and Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so? Ok then, sit here and exchange 'Friends' quotes all afternoon- Sarah Jane and Wilf and I can quite happily take that tea at Claridge's with Shakespeare."

The American's face brightened at once. "Ooh, shopping!" he exclaimed. "You know, I'd actually almost forgotten about that."

Sarah Jane laughed. "You know, I don't believe that for an instant. But I daresay that means it's time for me to love you and leave you."

The mood around the table sobered immediately, and Jack leapt up to sweep her into a hug. "Let me give you a lift home?"

The journalist laughed, shaking her head. "It's miles out of your way. I'll get a taxi, it'll be fine."

The model fished in his wallet and forced a £20 note into her hand. "Then at least let me pay."

The brunette raised an eyebrow. "Alright. But only because I don't have the time and energy to argue."

"Excellent." Jack turned to Wilf. "How about you? Want a lift?"

The restaurateur chuckled, shaking his head. "No; I need to hang about and clean up first, then I'll get the bus."

A second later, he too found a purple note being forced upon him as the model shook his head. "Take a taxi, my treat."

"You're too kind," the older man responded, accepting the money for the same reason as Sarah Jane- he knew from experience that it was nigh on impossible to refuse Jack's hospitality or kindness.

"Don't mention it," the model responded with a smile. "Take care of yourself Wilf, and have a fantastic Christmas. I'll be seeing you some time in January I should think; I have another shoot for _Kahlua_ in the New Year."

The restaurateur smiled back. "Excellent. Let me know when and I'll lay on the five star treatment." Turning his attention to the others, he smiled at them all. "Lovely to have met you," he told his three new acquaintances, shaking their hands, and they all murmured approximations of his sentiment in reply, all making up their minds to return at some point for another meal.

Rose and Sarah Jane both received hugs and instructions to take care, which they accepted with smiles and promised to return again soon. After one final hug between Wilf and Jack, the six visitors quit the restaurant and made their way back to the cars.

"Well, I guess this is where I leave you," Sarah Jane sighed, accepting the hugs which were piled upon her from all sides- Ianto, Tosh and Lisa had all grown awfully fond of her very quickly. Numbers were exchanged and promises to meet up again soon were given before Jack swept the journalist into a tight hug whilst Ianto called her a taxi.

"C'était fantastique, ma petite. Joyeaux Noel! À bientôt ma cherie," Jack murmured as he released her, and she smiled.

"It's not that long until New Year's, Jack. Au revoir, mon Capitaine."

With one final hug, she bid them all a collective goodbye and climbed into the taxi.

Jack looked sombre for a long minute as the vehicle disappeared from view, then he rallied with a megawatt smile.

"So- shopping!"

Ianto laughed. "How about we take the SUV and the girls take Lisa's car, and we'll meet at Claridge's at quarter past five?"

The model nodded, remembering his promise to take the musician on their fourth date. "Sounds like a plan."

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

**-**

**The Shakespeare References:**

Out, damned spot! Out, I say! - One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't. – Hell is murky. – Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? – Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?- Macbeth, (V,I)

Now is the winter of our discontent.- Richard III, (I,I)

If music be the food of love, play on. Give me excess of it that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die.- Twelfth Night (I,I)

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears: I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him- Julius Caesar, (III,II)

To be or not to be, that is the question- Hamlet, (III,I)

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth: I love your majesty according to my bond, no more nor less.- King Lear, (I,I)

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?- Romeo and Juliet, (II,I)

Nay, faith, let not me play a woman: I have a beard coming- A Midsummer Night's Dream, (I,II)

When you durst do it, then you were a man: and to be more than what you were, you would be so much more the man- Macbeth, (I,VII)

Yet I'll not shed her blood, nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, and smooth as monumental alabaster- Othello, (V,II)

Let the forfeit be nominated for an equal pound of your fair flesh- The Merchant of Venice, (I,III)

-

**And the French!:**

C'était fantastique- It was fantastic

ma petite- Term of endearment, literal translation is 'my little one'

Joyeaux Noel!- Happy Christmas

À bientôt ma cherie.- See you soon my dear

Au revoir, mon Capitaine- Goodbye, my Captain


	29. Halfway There

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Again, I'm so sorry for the delay- I've been having some trouble with writer's block and several unrelated issues in Real Life. I can't tell you when the next chapter will be, since my muse appears to have deserted me and I have exams just around the corner; but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this one.**

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing; your continued support means so much to me.**

**Special thanks to my fabulous beta Amethystbutterflys, who owes me 5 flavours of ice cream, 2 bottles of whipped cream and a tub of sprinkles. Cara'ch cariad.**

**l**

**l**

**l  
**

**Halfway There**

**l  
**

"Anywhere in particular that you want to go?" Jack enquired as he parked up the SUV.

Ianto shook his head. He still needed to get presents for his family, but he suspected that anywhere Jack took him would be way beyond his budget. Given his observations of Rose and Lisa together, he suspected that Tosh would not much enjoy the afternoon's shopping, which meant that he ought to be able to drag her out to the budget places he knew in Cardiff.

Jack nodded. "Ok then, I have a bit of Christmas shopping to do if that's alright?"

The Welshman smiled. "At the risk of sounding unbelievably cheesy, as long as I'm with you I really don't mind where we go."

The model laughed. "I'll bear that in mind next time I need a victim to drag down the West End with me."

Ianto's face was a picture. He might be gay, but musical theatre was certainly not his be all and end all.

"I'm joking," Jack reassured him with a grin. "I have no shortage of willing victims."

"Female?" Ianto guessed, and the model chuckled.

"Now who's stereotyping, Mr Jones?"

"I didn't say anything about stereotypes!" the Welshman protested.

"No, but you were thinking about it."

"Oh, shut up and take me shopping."

The American grinned. "With pleasure."

As they had been talking their feet had led them in the direction of Harrod's, and Jack's eyes lit up at the sight of the shop. Ianto raised an eyebrow, preparing himself for a heart attack.

Once they entered the store, it became immediately clear that Jack felt at home there, whereas Ianto had never felt more out of place in his life. It was not a sensation he enjoyed, and dismally he wondered how long his relationship with the model could hold up under the pressure of their completely different incomes and lifestyles. The moment of misery reminded him of the suspicious phone call the previous evening, and he flushed slightly, debating how best to bring the matter up with Jack. At the present time, the model seemed far too absorbed in scanning the shop with a critical eye, as if looking for something special.

"Searching for anything in particular?" the Welshman asked, and the American smiled vaguely. "Yes and no- I know _who_ I'm looking for, but not precisely what."

"Anyone I know?" Ianto enquired, wondering if he could make himself useful.

Jack considered. "Well, there's Tosh and Lisa now; you can help with those. Gwen I shopped for online; you don't know Owen or Rhys or Chrissy; I've already bought for Vanessa… Hmm." A sudden thought struck him. "Hey, I don't suppose you have nephews and nieces, do you?"

Ianto smiled. "As a matter of fact I do. David is seven and Micah is five."

The American grinned. "Excellent! You'll know what to buy for a three-year-old princess and a six-year-old demon then."

The musician raised an eyebrow. "Angel wings and devil horns?"

Jack burst out laughing. "You know, that's not a bad idea. I think my brother might kill me though."

"I'll keep thinking then," Ianto deadpanned, suddenly realising he had not even begun to consider what to buy for David and Micah this year, much less Johnny and Rhiannon.

"How good are you at shopping for women?" he demanded, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Depends on who the women are. Why, don't know what to get for your sister?"

The Welshman shook his head. "Not a clue. We're not exactly close."

"Bottle of wine and some nice chocolates?" the American suggested.

Ianto snorted. "Her husband is an alcoholic."

"Sorry, didn't realise." Jack squeezed his hand softly, and he smiled up at his boyfriend.

"It's alright, you weren't to know."

"I'm assuming she's the mother of your five- and seven-year-old niece and nephew?"

The Welshman nodded. "Yep. They live on a council estate and she works part time as a hairdresser," he added, as if the information might somehow help Jack think of something or, failing that, make him realise what a mistake he was making with Ianto and let the Welshman go before his heart got broken- though potentially it was too late for that.

As if sensing his boyfriend's thoughts, Jack frowned. "You're not just worrying about what to buy your sister, are you?"

Guiltily Ianto shook his head.

"What is it?"

The Welshman hesitated, and Jack slipped a hand through his. "Come on, Ianto, you can tell me anything."

Feeling as if that was true, Ianto gathered his courage and brought up the subject he really wanted to clear up. "That phone call last night…"

"Ah…" Jack dropped Ianto's hand, turning away.

"I see," the musician forced out between gritted teeth. "So what you said earlier about monogamy-"

"-Was absolutely truthful," Jack finished for him. "Trust me, Ianto- there's only you. That phone call- it's complicated."

"Define complicated."

"Do you remember on our second date I mentioned my oldest friend?"

Ianto thought back. "Yeah, I think so," he nodded slowly. "The one who was on drugs?"

"That's the one," Jack winced at the candid question. "I guess I should tell you sooner rather than later- once upon a time, a _very_ long time ago, before I even met Gwen, we used to date. We haven't been a couple in seventeen years, but since he's been in rehab I have on occasion offered certain… cathartic incentives, shall we say?"

The Welshman's eyes narrowed, and the American hastened to continue. "24 hours after meeting you, I withdrew that option from him… permanently. He seems to be taking it harder than I expected, and it's made me question all my interaction with him over the last eighteen years." His voice dropped and tears filled his eyes as he confessed in a whisper, "I think I might be the reason he started on drugs in the first place."

"I'm sure that's not true," Ianto asserted firmly, slipping a hand through Jack's. "Eighteen years is a long time; and there must be scores of possible reasons for him to have started using. If you really want to know, I guess you'd have to talk to him. But until then, there's no use blaming yourself for something that probably isn't your fault."

"But what if it was?" Jack whispered, hating himself for letting Ianto see him so vulnerable.

Across the store, the smallest of smiles flitted across the lips of a pretty blonde examining a vase with apparent interest.

"If it was your fault, then it's just something the two of you will have to work through together. In the meantime… I believe you promised me a date?"

A smile crept across Jack's lips slowly. "I believe I did. Well then, we'd best get to shopping- don't want the girls to beat us!"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Firstly, it's not a competition. Secondly, given the size of your credit card I think the girls would have to try extremely hard and shop extremely recklessly to even come close."

The model gasped theatrically. "Why Mr Jones, are you calling me rich?"

Ianto smiled coyly, fluttering his eyelashes. "But Mr Harkness, aren't you?"

Jack grinned. "Are you gonna dump me if I say no?"

"Of course," Ianto responded. "It's the only reason I'm dating you actually- I'm a vapid, shallow modeliser who has completely failed to notice your sense of humour, intelligence, kindness and generosity; and your looks are just the icing on the cake."

The model chuckled. "Marry me."

"It'll cost you," Ianto warned with a smirk.

"Try me."

"With an even division of property on our divorce, I think I'd find myself several million pounds richer."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And then some."

"Hmm…" Ianto pretended to think about it. "No."

The American grinned. "I rest my case."

His boyfriend grinned back. "Which case is this? That I'm not actually a vapid, shallow modeliser; or that I'm starting to make you paranoid?"

Jack tutted. "It's not _paranoia_, Ianto, it's an inferiority complex."

"I do apologise. How so?"

"I'm not man enough for you."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I'll be the judge of that, on the seventh date."

"Only three and a half to go…" Jack leered.

"Halfway there," Ianto observed with a grin. "Three and a half dates down and you're still resisting my advances- I'm going to have to try harder," he teased.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? In that case I shall have to redouble my efforts to persuade you to marry me."

"You're proposing because I can't keep my hands off you?" Ianto frowned.

The model grinned. "No. I'm proposing because it's fun. Although they do say that sex stops after marriage, so it might be a way to slow those advances of yours…"

The Welshman raised an eyebrow. "You realise that due to the bans and everything, we would have passed the seventh date and would therefore have no reason to get married?"

Jack chuckled. "Lucrative divorces?"

"I thought we'd established that I'm not shallow?"

The model smiled. "Just testing."

"What would you do if I actually said yes?"

"You won't," Jack opined with confidence.

"But if I did?"

"But you won't."

"What makes you say that?"

Jack smirked. "Because I've spent three dates observing you closely, Ianto Jones. You'll never say yes, because there's a tiny part of you that's worried I might actually be serious."

"And are you?"

The American laughed. "What do you think?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Well you won't sleep with me until the seventh date because a tiny part of you is worried that I might actually turn out to be a vapid, shallow modeliser after all. So I'm guessing not."

Jack grinned. "Give the man a coconut!"

He passed Ianto a bottle of coconut and orchid bath milk, the nearest thing to a literal coconut that he could lay his hands on at that moment.

"Why thank you," the Welshman observed, examining the bottle on the off-chance it might do for Rhiannon. The price caught his eye and the delicate glass vessel slipped from between limp fingers.

Fortunately, Jack's reflexes were quick, and he caught the bottle before it hit the polished wooden floor.

"Careful, this is quality stuff!"

Ianto stared at him, and he shrugged defensively. "Yes, I take baths! They're relaxing, ok?"

Jolted back to reality, the musician laughed. "Would you like some scented candles and soothing music with that, Monsieur Bing?"

Jack laughed. "Could I _be_ any more insulted by that comment?"

Tired of the constant recurrence of 'Friends' quotes, Ianto tried to steer the conversation into waters he knew better. "I wanna rip your clothes off and kiss every inch of your body."

The American grinned. "There's plenty of time for that later. Don't change the subject."

"I do apologise, Your Highness. What subject would you like to discuss?"

Jack grinned like the cat that got the cream. "Well, darling Cinders, how about… what to get Tosh and Lisa for Christmas?"

Ianto groaned, batting his boyfriend with the back of his hand. "That's not fair! I swear to god that's cheating!"

"What is?" Jack asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

Ianto resolved to provoke that look again when he had a camera on him: he could think of several sneaky uses for such a photo. In the meantime, however, he merely rolled his eyes.

"Bubble bath?" he suggested the first item to pop into his head.

Jack added a layer of confusion to his exaggerated innocence. "How is bubble bath cheating? Because it's easy and impersonal?"

The Welshman rolled his eyes. "No dear, because it's stepping out with the shower gel when it's engaged to the shampoo."

Jack's hearty laugh rang out through the store, drawing curious glances their way. Flattered by the model's response, for once Ianto scarcely noticed.

"Oh dear, I think that calls for some disciplinary action…" the American grinned.

The Welshman raised an eyebrow. "Pray tell me, good sir, how _do_ you discipline bubble bath?"

Jack smirked, leaning closer to murmur seductively in his boyfriend's ear. "Come around to my place sometime and I'll show you."

Ianto smirked back. "Will this involve your DVD collection by any chance?"

"Good lord, Ianto!" the American shot back in mock horror. "Do you really think I'd risk my precious DVD collection by submerging it in water?"

Ianto looked scandalised. "**You don't wash your DVD collection?** You can stay out of my disc drive!"

Several more pairs of eyes fixed on the couple as Jack collapsed in hysterics. When the American recovered a few moments later, he shot his boyfriend a smirk that was positively _decadent_.

"Why Mr Jones, I would have thought that you'd quite like my _dirty_ DVDs…" he murmured in the Welshman's ear.

Ianto choked on thin air. "Why Mr Harkness, isn't that a tenth date kind of revelation?"

Jack chuckled. "Oh dear, is it? Oops, you seem to have jumped the gun a bit."

The Welshman smirked. "Are you remembering something I'm not? Because I could have sworn that's off-limits until the seventh date…"

The model shook his head sadly, swallowing a laugh with difficulty. "Ianto Jones; and I thought you were so young and sweet and innocent…"

Ianto's smirk grew. "Evidently I've been spending too much time with you- you must be rubbing off on me."

It was Jack's turn to look scandalised. "Not in public! Dear god, Ianto, what kind of exhibitionist do you take me for?"

"Hold on- are you asking me not to read anything into the fact that you pose in boxers for a living?"

The model pouted. "I'm not _always _wearing boxers!"

The musician raised an eyebrow. "And there I was thinking that you don't do glamour modelling…"

Jack smirked. "Oh, I never say _never_- I might be persuaded to do some private showings."

Ianto's other eyebrow rose. "Are you propositioning me, Mr Harkness?"

"I was simply repeating my earlier offer to show you my DVD collection someday."

"Oh, I see- does it include 'The Proposal'?"

"Are you proposing to me, Mr Jones?"

"I was simply trying to create a picture of your DVD collection in my mind."

The model raised an eyebrow. "And you can't even wait until the bedding section? It seems I was right- you really are chilli-chocolate beefcake, aren't you?"

"Chilli-chocolate beefcake?"

Jack smirked. "Hot decadent male, bordering on the avant-garde."

The Welshman chuckled. "Oh, I see. Well, I stand by my decision of vanilla cheesecake for you: sweet, fragrant, effeminate dessert that everyone loves, which you have to wait for but in the end it's worth it."

The model brought out his trademark pout. "Effeminate?" His lip wobbled melodramatically.

Ianto smirked. "I rest my case, Cinderella."

Jack smiled softly back at his boyfriend, cupping his Welshman's cheek with one hand and drawing him into a tender kiss.

"It will be worth the wait, I promise," he murmured against Ianto's lips, and the musician smiled and kissed him back.

"I know it will." He waited a beat, then smirked. "If only because I'll be so horny by then that even women will start to look attractive."

Jack laughed. "Remind me not to take you back to _Ayesha's_ before the seventh date then- wouldn't want you eloping with your fiancée now, would we?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Now why would I do that when it would be far more fun to run off with yours?"

The model gasped. "You wouldn't _dare_ steal the woman who makes Cardiff's best cheesecake away from me!"

His boyfriend chuckled. "Ooh, now I know how to really hurt you…" A sudden thought struck him, and he smirked. "Hey, does this obsession you have with cheesecake make you secretly straight?"

Jack poked his tongue out. "Oh, I see what you're doing there, Mr Jones. You think that if you insult my manhood enough I'll whip it out and prove to you just how damn manly I can be."

Ianto laughed. "Damn, was I really so transparent?"

Jack smirked. "Of course, I could just do this the easy way…"

Dropping to one knee, he grasped Ianto's hands in his. "Ianto darling, light of my life, you make me happier than ever I thought a dirty-minded, witty Welshman could. I cannot bear the thought of life without you. So, beautiful Ianto, would you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?"

Ianto smirked. "You're paying for the sex change operation. AND wearing the dress."

Jack laughed. "Is that a yes?"

His Welshman chuckled, hauling the American to his feet. "No, dear. I rather think I shall marry Tosh- at least she doesn't object to me being manlier than her."

The model raised an eyebrow. "Ok, alright alright alright, you win! Can we go dress shopping now?"


	30. Afternoon Tea

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Well, my muse came back briefly and allowed me to finish this chapter and start the next, but she's gone again now so I can't promise any time for the next update. I do hope that doesn't take the edge off your enjoyment of this chapter.**

**A massive thank you to everyone who has read this so far and especially to everyone who has taken the time to review- it means the world to me that you like this story. Thank you!**

**Sparkly sugar-coated thanks to my awesome beta Amethystbutterflys for her neverending patience, support and supply of hypothetical cheesecake. Cara'ch! x**

**

* * *

**

**Afternoon Tea**

"So what did you buy?" Lisa demanded eagerly. It was twenty to six, and she, Tosh, Jack and Ianto had just settled down to afternoon tea in Claridge's.

Ianto groaned. "Harrod's," he responded wearily.

Jack laughed. "Are you saying you didn't have fun helping me to empty the store?"

The Welshman considered. "Well, I can't deny it was interesting."

"Just interesting?" Jack questioned with the merest hint of a pout.

Ianto smirked. "Well some parts were hotter than 'interesting', but that information is classified." He winked at the girls, who exchanged meaningful glances whilst Jack smirked.

"Suffice it to say that I began to wonder if you get even half as much exercise as your credit card does," the Welshman concluded.

"Yes, and then some!" the American returned. "I didn't end up looking like this by clicking my fingers or appearing on 'Extreme Makeover'!"

"Or by eating correctly," Lisa grinned cheekily, eyeing the cream cakes on Jack's plate.

The model smirked. "A cream cake a day keeps the blues away."

"…And Gillian McKeith in business," Tosh countered.

Jack turned to Ianto with a shrug. "Which one's she?"

"'You Are What You Eat'," the tech expert replied in her friend's stead.

The American smirked. "That would make me sugar and spice and all things nice then."

The other three caught one another's eye and burst out laughing.

A few minutes later when she had recovered somewhat, Lisa patted Jack's hand. "Yes, Cinderella dear, that _is_ what little girls are made of."

The model pouted. "Hey! I'm no little girl!"

Ianto chuckled. "No; you have all the right curves in all the right places."

Jack grinned, catching the Welshman's hand and guiding it beneath the table. "Oh, you mean these curves?"

"I'm not sure Claridge's is precisely the place to go into exactly which curves I mean," the Welshman retorted primly, rescuing his hand.

Tosh and Lisa caught one another's eye and rolled them in unison. "You're incorrigible, Harkness!" they chorused.

Jack sighed. "Ok, introducing impressionable young people to SJ was a bad idea…"

"Impressionable? Me?" Tosh returned innocently.

Jack instantly decided not to trust her innocent look. He'd already decided to be wary of Lisa's and Ianto's. Especially Ianto's.

As if reading his boyfriend's mind, the Welshman grinned. "No, I wouldn't trust her either."

Tosh produced a pout which Jack himself would have been proud of. "Feeling kinda picked on here…"

Jack smiled, patting her hand and reaching into his pocket for something. "Sorry hon. Would it make you feel better to be the second number in my new phone?"

He passed the device over and the girls gasped.

"Oh, I would kill for one of these!" Tosh said enviously, eyeing the model. "How do you feel about dying?" she asked conversationally.

Jack grinned. "I have no plans to do so just yet; thank you for your concern."

Lisa raised an eyebrow. "That's as maybe. But one has to wonder at the wisdom of forking out £450 for a phone which will inevitably end up in the fridge. That seems a little excessive, even for a millionaire."

The model scowled. "Ok, I won't be needing your number," he retorted, reaching for the phone.

The teacher laughed. "Too late," she returned, passing Jack his BlackBerry back. "I'm already in there. You are now my official claim to fame."

Tosh laughed. "Sorry Li, but I think Ianto's is a tad more interesting."

Jack pouted again. "Ok Yan, you are going to _have_ to tell me some incriminating anecdotes about these two before I am forced to kill them."

Ianto grinned. "Sorry Jack; they scare me more than you do- I don't dare."

"Coward!" the model teased, turning to the girls. "Alright then, let's have some scandalous stories about Ianto then, seeing as he has savaged my reputation beyond repair to everyone he knows."

The Welshman grinned. "I was acting on behalf of the phone which you savaged with a fridge," he retorted.

"My phone doesn't need a musician acting on its behalf- it already has a lawyer."

"You're right," Tosh mused. "It doesn't need a musician, or even a lawyer- it needs an undertaker."

"Yeah, like you've never broken a piece of technology through a teensy tinesy bit of _pos_sible misuse," Jack returned.

"Nope, never," Tosh said.

Ianto and Lisa broke into a shared fit of disbelieving coughing.

"Excuse me? Washing machine, third year?" the teacher spluttered.

Tosh had the grace to blush. "Yeah, ok, there _was_ that…" she conceded.

Ianto grinned. "Our washing machine broke during our third year of uni and our resident tech expert decided she could save us some money by fixing it herself," he explained to Jack.

"The result was a new washing machine and massive flood damage," Lisa chuckled.

"Yeah, well, at least I didn't get rushed to A&E after an accident with a toaster!" Tosh retorted.

"That was a career move," the teacher responded with dignity. "I'd feel a hypocrite telling the kids not to fish in toasters with metal knives without having experienced the result first hand."

Ianto blinked. "You teach six-year-olds, Li- they shouldn't exactly be using toasters unattended anyway."

"Well it's a more interesting way to account for my nuttiness than slipping on the soap!" Lisa retorted, and Ianto glared.

"That was your fault!" the musician protested. "I'm not the one who left the soap on the floor!"

"Well how was I to know that you'd walk in at precisely the second I was just drying my hands prior to picking it up?" Lisa demanded.

Tosh stole a glance at Jack and grinned at the rapt expression on the model's face as he glanced between his companions.

"Oh look, we found a way to shut Jack up!" she giggled.

Ianto laughed. "I didn't realise that was actually possible!"

Jack grinned, rolling his eyes. "Of course there's a way! It's called 'vanilla cheesecake'. You knew that, Yan."

Lisa grinned. "I'll bear that in mind for future conversations where I might want to get a word in edgeways."

The other three fell about laughing.

"I'm sorry, Li," Ianto choked out eventually when he had calmed a little. "But you've got to admit, you're worse than Jack for taking and maintaining the lead in a conversation."

The teacher grinned. "Perhaps I am," she admitted. "But all the same, _you've_ gotta admit that the cheesecake thing is worth remembering."

The model chuckled. "Ok, I've revised my opinion- I do like you after all."

"Is there _anyone_ you _don't_ like?" Ianto demanded.

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that she's sat on the other side of the room," Jack returned.

At once all three of his companions turned and stared across the room, trying to deduce whom the model was referring to.

The American groaned, burying his head in his hands. "Subtlety! Is it really too much to ask for a little subtlety here?"

"Yes," said Lisa, making no attempt to avert her gaze. "But tell us who we're meant to not be staring at and we might stop."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "See the short curvy blonde under the Monet?"

"If the Monet is the blotchy water lilies, then yes," the teacher responded.

"Well stop staring at her."

"Why?" Lisa asked, turning away anyway.

"Because you promised to?" Tosh suggested with a grin at her friend.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Idiot! I meant, why doesn't Jack like her? And, you know, should we know who she is?"

The model chuckled. "I do know _some_ normal people, you know."

"Do you really? I don't," Ianto commented innocently.

"Shut up and drink up," Jack retorted. "If we don't get going soon we'll be lucky to make it back to Cardiff before midnight; and we still have to pick Rose up."

Lisa sighed. "Yan… Ring me up tomorrow and tell me that I haven't dreamt the last few days, will you?"

Jack chuckled, looking around for something to sign. "How about I give you something to remind you?"

The teacher's eyes lit up. "Really? Would you?"

Reaching into her bags, she pulled out the December issue of _Kahlua_.

Jack grinned, taking it from her and flicking through to find the page he wanted. "Anyone got a pen?"

Tosh hid a smile as she fished in her bag for one and passed it over. After his outburst this morning, Jack was encouraging fangirly attention?

The model accepted the pen with a smile of thanks and signed the page with a flourish.

"There ya go," he said, and Ianto could not help but notice that Jack's accent had momentarily become more pronouncedly American than normal.

Lisa beamed. "Thank you!"

"Pleasure," Jack smiled back. "But that is your last homage to screaming fangirl-ness," he warned sternly. "From now on you're forbidden to be starstruck. Around me, at any rate."

"Fair enough," the teacher agreed.

Ianto glanced over at the autograph and rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure I want to know how you knew precisely where to find that page."

"I'm an avid reader," Jack shrugged.

Tosh blinked. "Of _Kahlua_?"

The American shrugged again. "They, along with Calvin Klein, are the main reason I can afford afternoon tea at Claridge's. Appreciating the hard work of their staff and offering my support is the least I can do."

"I dare say," the Welshman responded drily. "Nevertheless, I'm an avid reader of _Kerrang_, but I couldn't tell you at any given moment where the Calvin Klein underwear ads are."

"Liar," Tosh said. "You know exactly where they are- pinned to your fridge."

"Gee, thanks Tosh," Ianto returned sarcastically. "That doesn't make me sound stalkerish at all."

Jack glanced at Ianto sharply. "You know, one day soon we need to sit down and discuss this semi-naked picture-collecting thing seriously," he said.

Ianto flushed, and the model grinned as he continued. "I think it's frightfully unfair that you have so many of me and yet I don't have any of you. Not a single one." He pouted.

The musician laughed with relief. "Is that so? Well, I'm afraid you won't be getting any until after you've shown me your DVD collection."

Jack laughed. "Oh, I could show you today if you like!" he started. "But _I'm_ afr-"

The rest of his sentence was lost in Tosh's yelp of indignation. "NOT in the middle of Claridge's!"

After a split second of initial shock, the other three fell about laughing, quickly joined by the tech expert herself. Caught in the moment, they were unaware of the glances being directed at them; unaware in fact of anything else until they felt a presence beside the table. At once they sobered up, fearing it was a waiter sent to evict them; but when they looked up it was into the face of the curvaceous blonde Jack had pointed out.


	31. Introducing A Blonde

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Hmm, I seem to be getting somewhere towards kicking my muse back into action… Don't know when the next chapter will be, but I hope you all enjoy this in the meantime.**

**A massive thank you to everyone who has read this so far and especially to everyone who has taken the time to review- it means the world to me that you like this story. Thank you!**

**Special thanks to my uber-awesome beta Amethystbutterflys for the beta and all the TTN, SWA and CCC hype XD**

**

* * *

**

**Introducing A Blonde**

"Harkness."

"Holroyd," Jack returned, starting to rise to his feet with somewhat begrudging politeness.

"Please, don't get up on my account," 'Holroyd' smiled sweetly.

The model smiled back. "Oh, but it's the least I can do after you so kindly came over to see me," he replied in equally sugary tones.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. But aren't you going to introduce me? It's not like you to be so… unfriendly."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you," Jack responded pleasantly, satisfied to note a hint of red forming on Holroyd's cheeks. "You see, I have no intention of introducing _them_ to _you_; so it seems fairer not to make any introductions at all rather than to introduce one way." He smiled at her again.

"Besides, we know who you are anyway," Ianto added.

This was news to his companions, but they managed to school their faces into pleasant smiles without looking too shocked.

Holroyd's face was a picture, caught somewhere between worried and flattered.

Jack pressed home his advantage. "So how are you, Emily? Apart from being disappointed not to have another scoop on my private life, of course."

"Disappointed, Jack? Not at all. I have ways and means of identifying your boyfriend even without your cooperation. You should know by now that you can't stand in the way of anything I've set my mind to."

"Oh, I'm sure," Jack responded pleasantly. "But really, wouldn't you be far happier if you set your mind to persuading Alice to settle down?" He glanced pointedly at the empty ring finger on Holroyd's left hand.

"Well Alice is only filling in the time until I can persuade Cynthia Nixon to marry me," Holroyd responded tartly. "Apparently you've resorted to similar measures to spice up your quest for Neil Patrick Harris' hand. How long have you two been together?" She glanced between Jack and Ianto.

Jack followed her gaze and laughed heartily. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "That was terribly rude of me. But I've given up going after attached straight guys- it always ends in tears."

Ianto tried his hardest to control the stab of hurt that shot through him as Jack denied their relationship. He knew why the American had done so and was grateful to him; but all the same, hearing the laughing denial was much more painful than he could ever have anticipated. As such, he was grateful of the possessive arm Tosh wound round his shoulders as she stared Holroyd down.

Apparently oblivious, Jack continued with his conversation, inwardly resolving as he spoke to take Tosh out somewhere special to say thank you.

"Oh, and I changed my plan, by the way- I'm after Gok Wan now."

Holroyd recovered from the blush which had ruined her icy composure for a long moment in the face of her apparently glaring mistake.

"Gok Wan now? I'll remember that for my next exclusive on you, Harkness. But I don't think you're ruthless enough for him, darling- rumour has it he has the hots for Simon Cowell."

"Oh, I shouldn't set much store by rumour. More often than not it's false," Jack said mildly.

"No smoke without fire," Emily responded.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware we were discussing scientific concepts," Jack smiled sweetly, then glanced at his watch. "Well, lovely as it's been talking to you, Emily, we must be on our way. Give my love to Alice."

"I don't imagine she'd care for it much," Holroyd responded drily. "So long, Harkness. Until next time." She turned and walked away.

"Do please include some slander in your next article!" Jack called after her. "I love a good court case."

Holroyd paused and swivelled to stare at the model. "Far be it from me to deny you your desire, Harkness, but I'm afraid I'd already calculated that my budget won't stretch to a Christmas present for you. Good day." She turned on her heel once more and Jack rolled his eyes after her before turning back to his companions with a grin.

"Well, shall we?"

* * *

The girls managed to contain their curiosity until they reached the street, whereupon they turned on the males in the party.

"Ok, does someone want to explain who she is and what the hell all that was about?" Lisa demanded.

Jack and Ianto exchanged glances.

"I'm guessing she's a journalist?" Tosh hazarded astutely, and Jack nodded.

"She's a freelancer with a reputation for being particularly scathing."

"She's done three hatchet jobs on Jack in the last five years," Ianto explained.

"She's a ruthless, sadistic bitch who would sell her own mother downriver for a sensational scoop," Jack added. "I don't imagine she'd be out of place as a Victorian school ma'am, torturing her poor students with the cane. She's a piece of work alright. Gwen and I have sued her twice- one we won and one we didn't. Anyway, I think it would be fair to say that she's my nemesis."

Lisa blinked. "Ok, I can see why you hate her now."

The model laughed. "Well actually it's a bit of a love/hate relationship- we're not overly fond of one another as people, but we do love the sparring. If we were straight people in a movie, we'd almost undoubtedly end up married."

Tosh grinned. "Ok, now we've got that established, on to the next issue- Gok Wan?"

Jack chuckled. "He's kinda cute and knows about fashion," he qualified. "And John Barrowman's legally bound to another man. Unfortunately."

Lisa giggled. "John Barrowman, Jack? Really? Wouldn't that be like dating your twin?"

"No," Jack responded promptly. "I have no emotional connection to the man, platonic or otherwise."

The teacher grinned. "Ok, let me rephrase that: John Barrowman, Jack? Really? Wouldn't that be like screwing yourself?"

"Lisa!" Tosh exclaimed, aghast. "I did _not_ need that mental image, thank you!"

Jack grinned. "And on that note, I think we shall cast you forth from our company and make a move homewards."

Unlocking the SUV, which they had now reached, he pulled out a small gift bag.

"Happy Christmas, Stargirl," he grinned, passing Lisa the bag.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed eagerly, moving to open it, but Jack slapped her hand away.

"Nuh-uh. Not to be opened until Christmas Day."

"Spoilsport," Lisa pouted, dropping her efforts to open the parcel nonetheless. "I'll give you yours at New Year's."

"You don't have to!" Jack protested, and the teacher grinned.

"Well you got me one! But since you ask so nicely, I'll give you a choice: a present or a snog?"

"Present!" Jack responded instantly, making Tosh and Ianto laugh. "No offence, dear _lady_," he hastened to add, laying emphasis on the final word.

"None taken, Cinders," the teacher chuckled, giving him a hug and exchanging kisses on the cheek. "It's been… amazingly surreal to meet you."

Jack laughed as he released her. "Call me!" he ordered, and she nodded.

"As long as you promise not to put the BlackBerry in the fridge, freezer, oven, toaster or any other piece of kitchen equipment that springs to mind."

The model pouted. "If anyone needs me, I'll be sulking in the driving seat."

He suited the action to the word, leaving the trio of friends to say goodbye in peace. As they hugged and exchanged platonic kisses and promises of phone calls, no-one noticed the interested gaze of the pretty blonde in the café across the street.

Sipping her third lukewarm cappuccino, the woman in question pondered the best course of action as she watched the SUV pull away from the kerb and Lisa, now alone, wave goodbye. This seemed as good an opportunity as any- should she seize it? Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a recognisable figure on the other side of the street and scowled, cursing under her breath. The sight made up her mind at once, and she rose from her seat, jamming her notepad back into her shoulder bag as she did so, and abandoned the cold coffee on the table. If she wanted to get ahead of the game, she would have to up the stakes. The small fry climbing into her car after bidding Harkness goodbye no longer mattered- it was time to roll out the big guns. The pretty blonde smiled to herself as she quit the café and walked off in the opposite direction to that the SUV had taken.

* * *

Blissfully unaware of the thoughts passing through the blonde's mind, Jack drove on through the darkened streets until he reached an estate which always made his chest constrict just a little.

"Well, this is Rose…" he said slowly, unfastening his seat belt. "Wish me luck- I'm about to face the scariest woman in the world."

Ianto patted his head. "Do you need me to come with you?"

"Oh dear god, no!" the model exclaimed. "We'd never get out of there this side of Christmas if you do. No, I shall go alone," he concluded decisively, then grinned. "I am going outside, and may be some time," he quoted. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, assume the worst and start making funeral arrangements." Sighing, he stepped out of the car and slammed the door.

Ianto and Tosh exchanged glances.

"You mean Gwen _isn't_ the scariest woman in the world?" the Welshman murmured.

The tech expert grinned. "Maybe Rose's mum has a bigger rolling pin?" she suggested.

Ianto laughed. "Put two scary women in the same room and it's always about the size of the rolling pin."

"Or the height and sharpness of the stilettos," Tosh added sagely.

Ianto shook his head. "Rolling pin," he reiterated firmly. "It's far more fun to beat someone up with a rolling pin than a stiletto."

"You just say that because you don't own any stilettos," Tosh returned spiritedly.

Ianto chuckled. "Very true. But forgive me if I'm sceptical about your opinion on what drives a scary woman: you're not exactly qualified to speak on that subject."

Tosh gave her fiercest glare, which was about as formidable as a sleeping dormouse. "Are you trying to say that I'm not intimidating?"

"Now why would I say a thing like that?"

* * *

Whilst his two companions bickered peacefully in the car below, Jack climbed the stairs with mounting trepidation. Jackie Tyler's mood swings were infamous amongst those who knew her and the model was never sure if she was going to slap him or try to snog him.

Today she was in a snogging mood. The model could not quite decide if this was fortunate or not.

"Hello there gorgeous!" Jackie cooed as she opened the door.

Across the room, Rose rolled her eyes. "Mum, how many times do I have to tell you that he's gay? Stop hitting on him!"

"Oh, but he doesn't mind being told he's gorgeous, do you, pet? If you were ugly you wouldn't have stolen my Rose away to Cardiff." Her expression changed to a glare, and Jack gulped.

"In the interest of my own safety, I think I'd better give you these before I remind you that I am here to steal Rose back," the model ventured cautiously, thrusting a laden bag at Jackie, who beamed.

"Oh, isn't he a sweetie?" she cooed, launching herself at Jack for a hug whilst Rose spluttered at the expression on her employer's face as he hugged warily back.

"You missed the part about me stealing Rose back then," he murmured, making the blonde grin.

Jackie stepped back with a pout. "You won't even stay for a cup of tea?"

"No, I don't think so," Jack responded firmly. "I've just taken tea in town, and we really need to be pressing on if we're to stand any chance of getting home by midnight. And you don't really want your daughter out on the streets in the small hours of the morning with only two gay men and a very small woman for protection, do you now?"

The change in Jackie was astonishing. One moment she was begging the model to stay, the next she was practically throwing him out.

"No, I don't! Go, go, go! And look after my baby, Harkness! If anything happens to her I'll slap you so hard your ears ring for a week."

Jack visibly shuddered. "It's been lovely to see you too, Jackie," he murmured, inching towards the door.

"Go on, get on with you!" she shooed him out as she pulled Rose into a tight hug. "Bye, sweetheart. Take care of yourself, ok?"

Rose laughed. "Now _that's_ more realistic than the idea of _Jack_ looking after _me_," she teased, grinning cheekily at her employer.

Jackie immediately dropped her daughter and turned sharply to stare at the model, who yelped and fled for the stairs.

Still chuckling, Rose kissed her mother on the cheek. "Bye, Mum. I'll come and see you again in January, yeah?"

With one final hug, she extricated herself from the apartment.

"Well, that's getting easier!" she laughed as she rejoined Jack on the stairs. "I remember the first time I left her- I had to tell her to shut her eyes and count to ten; that I'd be back in six seconds."

Jack grinned. "That was the time you tried to convince her that the SUV is a time machine and so she wouldn't miss you at all, yeah?"

"That's the one," Rose agreed.

Jack chuckled. "Your time machine awaits, milady."

With a flourish he opened the back door for her, and Ianto and Tosh turned to grin as she climbed in.

"Oh, you're alive," Ianto commented with apparent disinterest, and the young blonde glared at the back of Jack's head as he took to the driving seat.

"Oi, have you been slagging off my mother again, Harkness?" she demanded.

Pausing with his seatbelt halfway to the fastener, Jack turned and shot his PA an innocent look. "I was merely introducing them to how scary she is. And you know I find your mother the scariest woman in the world."

Rose blinked as Jack turned back to the wheel and started the car. "I thought that was Gwen?"

"Owen can testify to the fact that your mother causes greater damage to a man's physical being- and ego!- with her bare hands than Gwen can manage with a rolling pin."

Rose laughed. "I'd advise you not to tell Gwen that- defending you from her frenzied attacks is not in my contract."

"Ah, but that's what I have Ianto for!" the American returned with a sly grin at the Welshman, who smirked back.

"Sorry Jack, no can do. I'd rather stay on good terms with my PR agent, thank you."

"Well so would I; but that never stops her chasing me with a rolling pin!" the model pouted.

Tosh laughed. "To be honest, Jack, if I was your PR agent I'm not sure _I_ wouldn't be chasing you with a rolling pin purely for recreation."

The model grinned at her in the rear view mirror. "You know, Tosh, I imagine I'd be the same."

"How exactly do you intend to chase _yourself_ with a rolling pin?" Ianto enquired. "And where can I purchase a front row ticket?"

"Maybe he's going to hire John Barrowman to pose as himself?" Tosh suggested with a wicked grin.

Jack shuddered. "Absolutely not! I don't want to be arrested for GBH."

"Funny how that never stops Gwen…" Rose mused, glancing out of the window and starting. "Oh, and Jack… next left, yeah?"

"Shit!" the model cursed uncharacteristically, throwing the SUV into a tight turn to take the road in question. "One more stop I nearly forgot about," he explained to his confused visitors before lapsing into silence and concentrating on driving for the next few minutes.

Some seven minutes or so later, he pulled up outside a pleasantly large house in Ealing.

"I won't be a minute," he called, leaping from the car and going to the boot to collect something before proceeding to the house.

From the warmth and safety of the vehicle, Ianto and Tosh watched curiously as the door was answered by a tall pretty blonde, to whom Jack handed the bag he held. They could not see Jack's expression due to the angle of the car, but in the light from the hallway they were able to observe the woman's expression flitter from pleasure to amusement to disappointment in the course of what was evidently a few moments' conversation. Finally, Jack ended the brief meeting with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning as the blonde closed the door and making his way back to the car.

"Would it be impertinent of me to ask who she is?" Ianto enquired as Jack slammed the driver's door, and the model grinned.

"She's the owner of that stunning pink cowboy hat which you modelled so beautifully last night, and which I have now returned to her, along with her husband's riding boots."

Ianto paled slightly. "You didn't tell her about the… 'modelling', did you?"

Jack chuckled. "How could I not? And before you ask, thanks to the light I left on for you, yes she could make out your face quite clearly."

Tosh and Rose stifled their giggles as Ianto watched the house disappear from view, an unreadable expression on his face.

"So how big a part of your life is she; and how likely am I to meet her?"

The American smiled. "She's a pretty huge part of my life actually, and I really hope that someday you will meet her because I kinda hope that you'll become a big part of my life too."

Ianto smiled softly. "I really hope so too."

Suddenly he realised something and groaned aloud. "Oh fuck, this is my 'phone-in-the-fridge' moment, isn't it?"


	32. Maternal Instincts

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show. **

**Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU**

**Rating- T**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has continued to read and review! My muse is busy working on lots of other things at the minute so I don't know when the next update will be, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this next instalment.**

**Special thanks to my uber-awesome beta Amethystbutterflys for the FABULOUS FABULOUS FABULOUS weekend in Cardiff! Cara'ch cariad! x  
**

**x**

**x**

**x**

**Maternal Instincts**

**x**

Jack awoke the following morning with a start as some small weight landed on his chest with a soft thump, immediately followed by light flooding the room. Opening his eyes begrudgingly, he glared at woman now seated on the other side of the bed.

"Piss off, Cooper! I didn't get home 'til quarter to one!"

"More fool you for not staying another night then!" Gwen retorted, reaching for the bag she'd dumped unceremoniously on Jack. "I come bearing _pain au chocolat_ and _café noir_ from _Le Petit François_."

In an instant Jack's scowl evaporated into a beam.

"I miss you," he declared as he grabbed his coffee and passed Gwen her mocha. "Why did you move in with Rhys?"

"Because I bloody love him, idiot!" his friend retorted as she divided up the pastries.

Jack pouted. "I thought you loved me?"

"I do, sweetheart, I do. The thing is, I don't want to marry you and have lots of sex and babies."

Jack gave one of his theatrical gasps. "Do you think Rhys knows that?"

Gwen laughed. "Yes and no. He knows I have absolutely no interest in you. But I don't think he knows I want to marry him and have lots of sex and preferably minimal babies though. Fortunately. I don't want to scare him off."

"Here's a tip for you then- put your phone in the fridge. He'll get the idea. But minimal babies? You're the maternal type, Gwen! It's not fair to the world to waste that."

Gwen fell about laughing. "Jack, I chase you round Cardiff with a rolling pin when you piss me off. If that's maternal then God help my potential future kids."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Jack mused, cracking up too.

Any retort Gwen might have made was cut off by the ringing of the phone, and the Welshwoman grinned. "Speaking of maternal… That'll be your mother."

"Oh, psychic now, are we?" Jack raised an eyebrow at her as he reached for the phone. "My psychic powers tell me you are my mother. If you're actually John I will be very disturbed."

"_Oh, so there is someone worse to talk to than me?_"

Jack emitted a small choking noise, turning an interesting shade of scarlet. "Why is that woman always right?"

"_Much as I'd love to think you mean me, I'm guessing you're talking about Gwen?_"

The model groaned. "Ok, screw that- why are _women_ always right?"

"Because we have psychic powers," said Gwen, who was shamelessly eavesdropping and trying not very hard not to laugh.

Oblivious to Gwen's commentary, Jack's caller was quick with a retort. "_Because we're women. Why do men never answer their phone?_"

"Because they put them in the fridge," Gwen said. Jack glared.

"I do answer my phone!" he protested.

"_Oh, really? I have been trying to get hold of you for forty-eight hours!_"

Jack rolled his eyes. "I know, Mom. The sixteen messages you left on the answerphone did kinda hint at that."

"_You know I hate to ring a number and not leave a message. What's the point in having an answerphone if people don't use it?_"

"I think it is ok to just leave one message, Mom," Jack said patiently.

"_One message wouldn't drive you insane and totally embarrass you; I'd be failing in my duties as a mother if I only left one message._"

"Mom, you know you're a fantastic mother. And you'd remain a fantastic mother even if you only left one message."

"_Well think of it as a bartering system then- I leave you sixteen messages; you have to call me sixteen times. And then everyone is happy. I had to call Gwen in the end yesterday. She told me about your London trip and your mobile._"

"And let me guess, your response was: 'Dear lord, my son ain't half stupid!'?"

"_Close; it was more along the lines of 'Flipping heck, not another one! You're single-handedly keeping BlackBerry in business!_'."

"Now that's not fair!" Jack pouted. "My last phone was an LG. And I support Samsung too, I buy one of those every five months or so."

"_Remind me again why you're not on contract, with insurance_?"

"Because I have better things to do with my time than trying to explain to some smart-arsed insurance lawyer that although I personally placed my phone in the fridge with exquisite care, it really wasn't my fault."

"_Oh, that's right, blame the boyfriend!_"

"You know about the boyfriend?"

"_I_ _know everything. And Gwen wouldn't give me his name or number- I was most upset._"

Jack laughed, turning to glare at the woman in question, who was making a very poor job of hiding her hysterics. Without bothering to cover the mouthpiece, he addressed his friend.

"Gwyneth Mary Cooper! Have you been being mean to my mother again?"

A laugh drifted down the line. "_Well actually, she hasn't. The sixteen messages were her idea_."

The model rolled his eyes. "I take back what I said about the rolling pin, Cooper- you will make a fantastic mother after all."

"_I'm coaching her,_" his own mother informed him. "_She's a very fast learner… and a most unwilling pupil_."

"I've told you, I don't want kids!" Gwen yelled in the general direction of the phone.

Jack covered his ears. Shouting _loudly_ was just one of Gwen's many talents. "I'm sure my mother didn't phone me to discuss how you're vehemently denying the planet of a treat, Gwen." He raised an eyebrow at her, and she grinned.

"_That's true, she didn't_," his mother clarified. "_I was actually calling to goad you until you reveal the name of your boyfriend. I'm intrigued._"

Jack chuckled. "He's tall dark and handsome, dazzling blue eyes, fantastic sense of humour and great fun. Oh, and makes quite possibly the best coffee on the planet."

"_And his name?_"

"Jones. His name is Jones."

"_In Wales? What are the chances?_"

"Very high," Jack said dryly, reminding Gwen strongly of Ianto.

"_That was a rhetorical question, darling_."

"Well you know how much I love answering those."

"_You always did insist on the last word, didn't you? Oh well, must dash. I have about thirty-six thousand people by the name of Jones to telephone before lunchtime. I don't suppose you could narrow things down by giving me an initial, or maybe even a first name?_"

"Nah, that would just make things too easy for you. I'd hate to spoil your fun, and you seem to have a fantastic morning planned. I'll let you get on with it then. Love you."

"_Love you too baby._"

As Jack replaced the receiver on the bedside table, Gwen beamed at him. "So, gossip! I brought you pastries and coffee; I need gossip. How was London with Ianto?"

The model grinned. "Oh, fabulous. We had a great time, and a wonderful shopping date. Ran into Holroyd in Claridge's, but I think I managed to dissuade her from the idea that Ianto and I are a couple."

Gwen waved aside the comment impatiently. "We'll worry about that dragon later. I want all the details of the hotel! Did you manage to keep your hands off each other, staying overnight in the same place?"

Jack grinned. "We shared a bed, but we didn't sleep together."

His friend raised an eyebrow. "You say that with so much pride…"

"Clearly you've forgotten what Ianto looks like."

Gwen chuckled. "Oh, right, yeah- he looks like a man."

The model pouted. "And just what are you trying to insinuate, PC Cooper?"

"Well, let's face it, Jack; you don't exactly have a great record with platonic bed-sharing. With men, anyway. I _know_ you've shared beds with women loads of times and not slept with them. Always had a sneaky feeling that that might just be because you're gay."

Jack pouted again. "Ok, done judging me yet? I don't _have_ to indulge you with gossip, you know."

"Yes you do," Gwen said. "I have a rolling pin in my handbag."


	33. No Flowers, Thanks!

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show.  
Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU  
Rating- T  
Well, after a loooong break, my muse has finally come to terms with the fact that I have moved out of my old flat, and has come to join me in my new one. She's been itching in my fingers for days, but due to essays I haven't been able to indulge her until now. The essays will be over by Friday though, and then writing can begin again in earnest. Be worried, be very worried… *g*  
A huge thank you to all my readers for being so patient with the long break.  
Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the emails and the endless patience and encouragement. This one is dedicated to you, dear. Love you! x**

**x**

**x**

**Chapter 33- No Flowers, Thanks!**

**x**

"I think the press called me on Saturday," Ianto commented as he and Jack walked together through the city the following Monday.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

The Welshman frowned. "It was the weirdest phonecall! Round about lunchtime. I answered, 'Ianto Jones', as you do; and then this female voice- American, I think, judging by the accent- says: 'Hmm, Ianto Jones? Are you the one who's dating Jack Harkness, by any chance?'"

Jack frowned. "And what did you say?"

"I told her, 'I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about' and hung up." He turned to his boyfriend, echoing the American's frown. "I don't want the press calling my house, Jack."

"That wasn't the press, Yan," Jack reassured him with a groan. "That was my mother!"

Ianto blinked. "How did your mother get my number?"

"You're in the phonebook, aren't you?"

Another frown crossed the Welshman's face. "That's a point- if I'm going to date you, I'm going to have to retire gracefully from the phonebook or change my number, aren't I?"

Jack considered the issue. "It's up to you- there are probably tonnes of 'I Jones'es listed in the Cardiff area; withdrawing from the phonebook might draw attention to you rather than deflecting it away."

"Good point…" Ianto mused, then grinned. "Anyway, it would be an awful lot of trouble to go to when we've only been on four dates. I might be forced to dump you in a couple of weeks when you turn out to be lousy in bed."

"Hey!" Jack looked wounded. "I'll have you know I'm amazing in bed, thank you very much!"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? One wonders why you're so reluctant to prove it…"

Jack raised one back. "Oh, it hasn't occurred to you that the fact that we're in public might have something to do with my reticence? You wanted to keep a low profile, Yan- taking me up against the gates of Cardiff Castle is hardly the way to achieve that aim."

The Welshman chuckled, leaning in close to murmur teasingly in Jack's ear: "Could be fun though…"

The American looked scandalised. "Ianto Jones, you dirty little exhibitionist! I don't know if I dare be seen out with you now. Tell me, do you have form?"

The comment was teasing, but Ianto flushed scarlet. "Shoplifting when I was fifteen," he mumbled.

Jack's footsteps faltered for a moment as he processed the information. "And what were you nicking, condoms?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood again.

Ianto grinned, the blush easing now. "As a matter of fact, yes. It was part of my disastrous experimentation years."

The American raised an eyebrow. "Experimentation years? Now that sounds like an interesting story…"

"It's really not," Ianto muttered. "Not the best time of my life, you know? I was lonely and confused and trying to figure out who I was. That time of life when you're constantly trying to prove something to your mates… or sometimes to yourself."

Jack slipped an arm round the younger man's waist and pulled him close. "When _did_ you come out?" he asked curiously. "You know, to yourself?"

Ianto paused to consider, snuggling into Jack's side as they walked. "I was about 18, I guess. I'd had an inkling for some time though; I found provocative male images in the media arousing and my sexual experiences with women weren't nearly as great as society said they should be."

"You've slept with women?" Jack asked.

"Does that bother you?" Ianto enquired in response, and the American shrugged.

"Not really, no. Does it bother you that I haven't?"

Ianto stopped walking, dragging Jack to a halt. "You've never slept with a woman?" he demanded.

"That's an _issue_ for you?" the model demanded equally incredulously.

Ianto shook himself, trying to get a grip. "No!" he exclaimed, something inside him lightening immeasurably. "It's just that all the tabloids, with all the pictures of you with all those women; all those stories claiming that the claims that you're gay are lies from attention-seeking mercenary men! I have been stressing since the day I met you that you're going to see some gorgeous woman and then I'll be forgotten!"

He didn't know quite where the flood of words came from- perhaps it was the relief speaking. Either way, the American's response was to pull him closer and meld their lips in a tender yet passionate kiss.

"Never!" Jack declared firmly. "Sod what you read in the tabloids, Yan- they don't know _anything_. I am most definitely gay; and the only person I want to be with right now is you. So, are we good?"

Ianto beamed, initiating another searing kiss. "Oh yes," he said. "We're good."

"Excellent!" Jack dropped one final kiss on Ianto's lips before curling an arm around his waist and setting off walking again. "Now, I believe we were in the middle of a date, Mr Jones?"

"Always words I like to hear!" Ianto chuckled, relaxing into Jack's easy embrace. "Mind you, when you announced that this is your 'cheap date', I didn't realise we were just going to meander round the streets of Cardiff for an hour."

The American grinned. "Oh, we're going somewhere," he reassured Ianto. "But I'm not forking out for petrol today, so I'm afraid you have to put up with walking."

"And what if I don't want to walk?" Ianto enquired with a grin.

Jack laughed. "Then either you suffer the indignity of me carrying you, or we declare this null and void as a date."

The musician gave his best mock-horrified look. "I'll walk! I'll walk!" he exclaimed, increasing his pace and drawing away from Jack.

"You don't even know where we're going!" Jack pointed out with a laugh as he turned off onto a different street, leaving Ianto to whirl round and give chase.

"Somewhere in Cardiff, I hope!"

"Yeah, about that…" Jack flashed him an engaging grin, taking his hand again. "I thought to myself, 'what _can't_ I do on a cheap date?' And I figured- I can't buy dinner or expensive wine; I can't give you chocolates or flowers or any other clichéd but expensive and meaningful gift; I can't hire a string quartet… Oh, and I can't book a hotel room because this is only the fifth date. So that left me with walking you out into the countryside to gather ingredients for me to cook a meal for you on an open fire in the middle of nowhere- and if you're lucky, I'll pick you some wild flowers."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "No offence, but that sounds like a daylight horror movie."

The model chuckled, using his free hand to write in the air. "Has… phobia… of… wild… flowers…"

"Why yes Jack, yes I do. However did you guess? I think it's because they're somehow intrinsically connected with the cannibals who will leap out of the undergrowth and hack us to pieces in the scenario you have just painted."

The American could not help but laugh. "Seriously, Ianto- cannibals? In the Brecon Beacons? In broad daylight? I would accuse you of having too many horror flicks in your DVD collection, but the whole daylight aspect kinda invalidates that…"

"DVD talk, Mr Harkness?" Ianto fluttered his eyelashes. "In broad daylight? And so soon! I thought we had another two dates to go yet? And neither of them in the countryside!"

"I never would have taken you for more of a city slicker than me!" Jack laughed, stopping short in front of the temporary ice rink erected in the middle of the city centre. "But fear no cannibals, Cinderella- we're here. And not a blade of grass or wildflower in sight."

"No, just bruised egos and sore backsides…" the musician murmured, a slideshow of all the ways that ice skating could rob one of their dignity flashing through his mind.

Jack laughed. "Oh, come on, it'll be fun!"

"You're amazing at it, aren't you? Oh, of course you are. Why am I even asking?" Ianto rolled his eyes, shaking his head a little.

His boyfriend chuckled again. "To delay the moment that you have to step out onto that ice and lose your poise for the first time since I met you?" He smiled, dropping a soft kiss on the Welshman's lips. "Relax, Yan. This is a date, remember? If you really don't want to do it, we don't have to. We can buy crappy takeout coffee and stand here laughing at everyone else falling on their asses instead, if you'd rather."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Ianto questioned, touched. In his last relationship… But no. He wasn't going to think about Adam now. Not when he was here with a gorgeous American who was stroking a tender thumb down the Welshman's cheek.

"Of course. Dates are supposed to be fun, Yan. If this isn't your idea of fun, we'll go somewhere else, find something that is. I can always come back at the weekend with Gwen."

The musician raised an eyebrow. "At the weekend with Gwen, hmm? Aren't you supposed to be shagging me senseless and then taking me to a charity benefit at the weekend?"

"Friday night, then," Jack responded promptly with a smirk. "Anyway, the benefit's on Monday, actually."

"Brilliant!" Ianto looked delighted. "That gives me a greater amount of weekend to spend exploring your DVD collection."

The American raised an eyebrow. "Mmm, promises promises!"

His Welshman chuckled. Allowing his expression to soften into a smile, he squeezed the model's hand. "Let's do this, Jack. Together, today. Just as long as we can still get coffee afterwards- inside."

"Deal!" Jack grinned, sealing it with a kiss. "Oh, you are going to have so much fun!"

Having taken one step towards the entrance, Ianto stopped short and stared at his boyfriend. "This is all an evil plan, isn't it? You think that if you can make my arse hurt some other way, I'll stop begging you to fuck me, don't you?"

The model grinned. "Not at all. I already know for a fact that you're not going to stop begging me to fuck you, because I'm not going to stop asking you to marry me. Case in point…" Dropping to one knee, he seized Ianto's left hand in his. "Ianto Jones- marry me!"

"Jack Harkness- you're supposed to start falling over once you get _on_ the ice, not before! Now, are you coming or what?"

Without waiting for an answer, he extricated his hand and sauntered towards the entrance.

Jack raised an eyebrow at the musician's retreating back as he scrambled to his feet and followed. "Not yet, darling," he murmured with a grin. "But I sure as hell will be come Saturday…"


	34. Remember My Last

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show.  
Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU  
Rating- T  
Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! It's nice to know you're still enjoying this in spite of the long break! x**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the holiday plans and the excitement for February. Love you! x**

**x**

**x**

**Remember My Last**

**x**

"If I go down, I'm taking you down with me…" Ianto warned as he tentatively stepped out onto the ice, glad that he had taken Jack's advice not to wear jeans on this date.

The American grinned. "Oh, you wouldn't be so mean! I haven't fallen over ice-skating since I was fifteen."

"Twenty years, huh?" Ianto calculated with one eyebrow raised. "Then I think it's about time someone took you out and wiped that smirk off your face!"

Jack's only response was to smirk. "And for that, you get to cling precariously to the barrier alone for two minutes whilst I go and show off."

Ianto grinned, tugging his stopwatch from his pocket. "That's two minutes, and countin'."

Jack raised an eyebrow and sped off towards the centre of the ice, the Welshman's eyes following his every movement. The American seemed incredibly sure on his feet, and Ianto could not help but admire the easy way he flew over the ice with perfect balance, every so often making a sharp turn or small jump.

The musician was so spellbound watching the model that he forgot to keep an eye on his stopwatch, and it was only when Jack glided smoothly back towards him that Ianto thought to look down.

"That was only a minute and a half," he commented as Jack reached his side, and the model shrugged.

"I missed you."

Ianto smiled in acknowledgement of the sentiment, then let his expression slide into a smirk. "Fuck me."

The wicked little comment almost succeeded in bringing Jack down before Ianto himself had fallen- the model had to clutch the barrier to remain upright as he burst out laughing.

"That _wasn't_ a proposal!" he protested, attempting to look hurt.

Ianto grinned. "No, no it wasn't. But you'll notice that the last time you proposed, I failed to give the requisite response. So there it was. We're even now."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "So let me get this straight- every time I say 'marry me', you are going to respond with the words 'fuck me'?"

"That's right," Ianto nodded.

"Interesting…" Jack mused with a wicked grin.

Breaking away from Ianto, he sped across the ice towards a man on the other side of the rink. As the Welshman watched with growing consternation, the model exchanged a few words with the stranger then sank gracefully to one knee.

Had they not been on an open-air ice-rink in the middle of the city centre, doubtless with many children within earshot, Ianto would have yelled: 'Fuck you!'

As it was, he was forced to content himself with muttering a string of Welsh expletives under his breath. However, his scowl slowly morphed into a smile as the man hauled Jack to his feet and dealt him a stinging slap on the cheek. The sound of the impact could be heard right across the ice, and Ianto found a vindictive sense of pleasure in it.

Cheek glowing red and eyes sparkling, Jack glided back across the ice towards his boyfriend.

"Fuck you! Wanker," Ianto muttered as the model reached him, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Interesting…" he repeated his earlier words, then grinned. "Well, that was quite homoerotic! Rhys said he'd love to meet you; I have to haul you over there just as soon as you're confident that you can put one foot in front of the other on here."

Ianto started in surprise. "You… Rhys… _What_?"

The American laughed. "Rhys said he'd love to meet you," he repeated. "I have to haul you over there just as soon as you're confident that you can put one foot in front of the other on here."

The Welshman's eyes narrowed. "What precisely did you say to him?"

Jack screwed up his face in concentration. "I said… 'Hey Rhys! Never thought I'd see you at one of these things!' Then he explained what he's doing here, and asked if I was here alone. And that's the point where I got down on one knee and said 'Actually, no. I'm here with Ianto; want to meet him?'."

"That's all?"

"That's all. The words 'marry me' did not pass my lips, I swear. But you _did_ have an interesting reaction to the thought that I'd said them… I'll have to bear that in mind." He grinned again.

Ianto glared. "You're a wanker, you know that?"

The American shrugged unrepentantly. "So I've been told. Usually by Gwen, wielding a rolling pin. Still, I'm sorry if I freaked you out. I guess I thought you believed me when I told you this afternoon that you are the only person I want to be with."

The tiniest hint of bitterness crept into his tones, and despite his anger at the American Ianto began to feel almost guilty. Damn it, he should know enough of Jack by now to realise that the man had a flirtatious sense of humour! The model had flirted with many people since he had met Ianto, but to the musician's knowledge Jack had not lied to him even once. Wishing that he could somehow get over the insecurities that had plagued him for the last year or so, Ianto squeezed the model's hand.

"I did," he said softly. "I _do_ believe you. But I haven't had the greatest experiences with men in the past, and it isn't always easy to control one's insecurities, however unfounded one knows them to be. It doesn't help that you're a celebrity and have had hundreds of rumours about your relationships printed in tabloids and gossip magazines." Ianto sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "I don't _want_ to be so self-doubting," he whispered. "But sometimes I just can't help it."

Warm, strong arms enfolded him in a tight hug, and he collapsed into Jack's embrace.

"Hey," the American breathed, the words whispering across the top of Ianto's head. "I'm so sorry, Yan. I didn't know. I have been told that my sense of humour leaves a lot to be desired sometimes. I thought I'd be safe picking Rhys as my target, he being a famously straight and butch rugby player whom you know to be dating my best friend and all. But I guess I was stupid; I got carried away. I'm sorry. I'll try and curb the wackier side of my humour in the future, I promise."

"No, don't." Ianto raised his head to look Jack in the eye. "I love your sense of humour. One joke that missed the mark slightly is no reason to change completely."

"I have to grow up at some point, Ianto!" Jack protested with a grin. "That joke hurt you, and hurting you is the last thing I want to do. I promise you, Ianto Jones, I was telling the absolute truth when I said that you're the only person I want to be with. I l- like you so much it scares me a little," he confessed, then breathed a heavy sigh of his own. "I'm not good at this couple thing, Yan. I haven't got this far with a relationship in about three years. I guess I'm a little rusty with what it means to _be_ with a person, and not just flirt with them. Forgive me?"

"Of course," Ianto nodded automatically, kissing him to prove it. "But- three years? Really?" He could not hide his astonishment. "But if you don't sleep with guys until the seventh date, does that mean…?" He couldn't even say it.

Jack looked horrified. "Hell no! Three years without sex? Bring on the freak accident with a stray javelin!"

The Welshman burst out laughing. "I'm not sure if you're trying to say there that you see three years without sex as a fate worse than death; or if you've just invented a very creative euphemism for one night stands."

"You know, I'm not sure either," Jack chuckled, dropping a kiss on Ianto's lips. "Now, how about we do some skating? We maybe need to resume this conversation at some point, but this isn't really the time or the place for deep and meaningful discussions. And I _did_ promise Rhys that he could meet you…"

"Yeah, about Rhys…" Ianto responded, raising an eyebrow. "If you just asked him if he wanted to meet me, why did he slap you?"

The model laughed. "Oh, he's been wanting to do that since he met me. There's something about my face that annoys him, apparently. Oh, and the first time we met I was posing as Gwen's boyfriend; that might have something to do with it…"

"Now that's a story which I _have_ to hear!"

Jack grinned at the curiosity on Ianto's face. "I'll tell you over coffee. Right now I need to teach you how to skate. Have you really never done this before?"

The Welshman shook his head. "Nope. You have officially popped my ice-skating cherry. In the middle of the city centre, you exhibitionist!"

"Well, at least it wasn't up against the gates of Cardiff Castle…"


	35. Dignity Abounds

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show.  
Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU  
Rating- T  
Apologies for taking so long to update- I left my notes in Sheffield when I went home for a fortnight, and during that time my muse deserted me again. Still, she seems to be back now! Just make sure that I don't start re-reading Harry Potter and you should be fine… Thanks for being so patient with this! And a huge thank you to everyone who has read and especially to those who have reviewed. Love you all!**

**Sorry this is a bit short! The next chapter is longer. And it's already finished, so it should be up in the next day or two. =)**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for pretty much everything. Caru'ch cariad! xxx**

**x**

**x**

**Dignity Abounds**

**x**

Thirty minutes later, Ianto felt that he was just about getting the hang of ice-skating. To his relief, Jack's constant presence at his side and quick reactions meant that although the Welshman had keeled over more times than he could count, he was yet to land on his arse.

"You know, you're doing great. Sure you haven't done this before?" Jack raised an eyebrow as he skated backwards gracefully, waiting to support Ianto if he needed it.

As if to prove his inexperience, the Welshman promptly fell backwards faster than the American could reach out. From the cold, damp, hard surface of the ice, Ianto raised an ironic eyebrow. "Oh yes, I've done this tonnes of times. Complete pro, me."

Jack could not help but laugh. "Are you alright, Yan?" he asked with a fair amount of anxiety as he helped his boyfriend up.

Ianto grimaced, testing his limbs. "Fine," he said. "Slight loss of dignity; no change there then."

The American grinned. "Ah, you see, my darling," he responded sagely, "that's because you're too damn dignified to begin with. Become a carefree slob like me and when you fall on your arse no-one even notices the dent in your dignity."

Having seen Jack's hotel room in London, Ianto could quite believe the model's claim to be a slob. And that amount of money could easily make someone carefree. He gritted his teeth.

"That's easy for you to say," he bit out. "You're so good at this that you're blatantly not going to fall on your arse; and despite my best efforts I categorically failed to bring you down."

Jack was very obviously trying hard not to laugh. "Oh dear," he said, his hand gliding over Ianto's bruised posterior. "Is that a hint that I need to drag you over to Rhys for a bit of dignified barrier-clutching?"

The musician raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Dear me, you seem to be suggesting that I'm not having fun falling on my arse!"

"Oh, well, far be it from me to cut short the wonderful time that you appear to be having!" Grinning, Jack increased the speed of his skating, drawing away from Ianto.

Still not quite confident on his skates, the Welshman followed; but his balance betrayed him and he found himself pitching forwards, catapulting into Jack, who was still skating backwards. The natural result of this was that the American promptly fell on his arse, landing on his back with Ianto splayed on top of him, rendering the two men nose to nose and groin to groin.

Designer outfit soaked through from ankle to neck, Jack groaned. "I'd forgotten how _soggy_ falling over on ice could be…"

Ianto grinned. "I soaked Jack Harkness? My life is now six percent complete…"

"Only six percent?" The model could not help but pout, and the musician laughed.

"Well, it would be twelve percent if I'd managed to soak you front and back. As it is…" He raised an eyebrow, certain parts of their anatomy rubbing together as Ianto attempted to haul himself to his feet. Jack groaned softly, biting his lip, and the Welshman suppressed a smirk with difficulty. This almost counted as revenge for the model's conduct in London.

"I daresay we'd better move," the musician commented, making another unsuccessful effort to rise. "If we lay here any longer some errant child will fall over us or slice our fingers off with the devilishly sharp blades on their feet."

"Or a sedated pterodactyl will fall out of the sky on top of us," Jack supplied with a grin.

Ianto ceased his efforts to get up and stared at his boyfriend. "Where did _that_ come from?" he demanded.

The model grinned engagingly. "Through a rift in time and space, of course. Why else is Cardiff awash with flotsam and jetsam? And you don't want to _know_ what's living in the sewers…"

"Your second cousin?" Ianto questioned with a raised eyebrow, and Jack laughed.

"Oh yes, and his wife and kids. And they all have this penchant for Halloween masks; so when I introduce you to them, please admire their fangs and at least pretend to believe they're real."

"You're a lunatic, you are," Ianto commented fondly, shaking his head.

That engaging grin came out again. "Ah, but that's one of the things you'll come to love about me…"

Actually, it was one of the things that Ianto was pretty sure he already loved about the model, but he wasn't about to admit that here and now. As such, he was profoundly grateful for the sudden sensation of strong hands grasping the back of his jacket and hauling him to his feet.

"Whoa, steady now!" The voice which met his ears was pleasant to hear, shot through with a lazy Welsh accent and, at the present moment, strongly coloured with amusement. "Up you get now; can't have you screwing Jack Harkness in the middle of an ice rink in the city centre! It would ruin all our reputations. Besides, this is only the fifth date…"

Turning to thank his rescuer, the musician found himself face to face with Cardiff Blues rugby legend Rhys Williams. For the first time in his life, Ianto Jones was starstruck.


	36. Casual Feuds

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be less aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can tell by the aliens, the BBC has the honour of owning the show.  
Spoilers- None- for once this is absolutely, completely and utterly AU  
Rating- T  
Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! Your reviews keep me smiling when uni is getting me down, so thank you. =)  
**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflys for the beta, the telepathic cheesecake, and **_**that**_** FFTL scene… Love you! xxx**

**x**

**x**

**Casual Feuds**

**x**

"Oi! Anyone gonna help _me_ up?"

Jack's semi-irate tones brought Ianto back to his senses, making him instinctively whip round whereupon he only just managed to grab onto the barrier to save himself from becoming reacquainted with the ice. Rhys, appearing to be much steadier on his feet, merely stared at Jack for a long moment, eyebrows raised.

"Nope," he said at length, and made as if to turn to Ianto.

Jack pouted. "I have four words for you, Rhys Alun Williams: Gwen. Cooper. Rolling. Pin."

Already these words were enough to strike fear into the heart of Ianto Gareth Jones; but to the Welshman's astonishment Rhys merely laughed.

"Ah, you see, that's exactly why I'm going to leave you lying there- the missus doesn't like me to go round picking up guys."

"You picked up Ianto!" Jack protested, struggling into a sitting position.

The rugby player shrugged. "I figure guys Gwen's made a play for count as fair game."

Ianto's mouth dropped open even as Jack scowled. "So get down off your high horse and help me up then!"

"But it's so much more fun to humiliate you, Harkness," Rhys returned, relenting and offering Jack a hand. If he hadn't been so dazed by the casual comment about Gwen making a play for him, Ianto would have been quick to note the way the rugby player's other hand clutched the barrier tightly. Evidently the star of the Cardiff Blues had no desire to wind up crotch to crotch with the dripping model.

"At last!" Jack treated Rhys to an exaggerated eye roll. "I was _this_ close to playing the old 'the last time I fell over ice-skating my _father_ was there to pick me up!' card."

Rhys raised his eyebrows again. "You fight dirty, Harkness."

Jack's only answer was a swift engaging grin before he turned his attention to the silent musician. "Y'ok, Yan? You're weirdly silent. Not starstruck, are you? 'Cause I can assure you, this great lump here ain't worthy of it."

Rhys brought his elbows together and clapped the outsides of his fists together twice in a rude gesture borrowed from 'Friends', but Ianto scarcely noticed.

"Erm, dumbstruck would be more accurate, I think," he commented. "Gwen's made a play for me? When?"

The model chuckled. "Oh, Rhys is just exaggerating. If I know my Gwen she won't have made a play for you because she offered you up to me on a silver platter and she sets great store by friendship. But when I was late for drinks at _Vigilante_ the day we met, she did tell me I had about two minutes to show my face or she'd try to turn you. But don't worry, she was joking. For some strange reason she seems oddly committed to this great lump here."

"Oi, 'great lump here' has feelings, you know!" Rhys protested. "And I'll have you know that I'm a great lump of pure muscle, thank you very much. Anyway, Harkness, you're just jealous that for once Gwen got the guy and not you."

"I assume you've switched the conversation onto yourself now?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Because it may have escaped your notice, but Ianto is quite categorically with _me_."

The man in question cut across the seemingly endless banter with a frown. "So when we met," he began slowly, "when Gwen introduced us in _Vigilante_- you were _in_ on that? It wasn't just some chance meeting engineered by her- you _planned _that?"

"Well- yes," Jack answered, a little taken aback. "I mean, she told me that she'd met you and that you were gorgeous and talented and gay and single. And she offered to set us up, and naturally I said yes. Is that a problem?" He frowned.

Ianto frowned too. "I suppose not. It just never occurred to me, that's all. Makes me feel kind of like a melon in the supermarket or something, where you weigh them all up before you decide which one to buy."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "A melon, Ianto? Really? Of all the analogies you could have sprung on me, you're going with a _melon_?"

"What's wrong with a melon?" Ianto defended himself. "I suppose now you're going to say you'd have gone with a packet of condoms or something?"

Jack stared. "Is that really what you think of me?" he demanded. "You really see me as the kind of guy who only thinks with his dick?"

Seeking to diffuse the situation, Ianto shook his head. "No, of course not. I've yet to meet a dick that can pull off a first class degree- and in astrophysics, no less! No, I think it's safe to say that your brain is definitely located further north."

Jack grinned, and the musician felt the warmth of forgiveness flood through him as the model leaned closer to murmur confidentially in his ear: "Not that that takes anything away from my dick…"

Rhys groaned loudly, making a show of covering his ears. "Harkness! There are children present- couldn't you try a _little_ harder to keep this conversation appropriate for public airing? Good grief, man, imagine what a field day the press would have if they were stalking you!"

"It's not like you to be so concerned about my reputation, Rhys…" Jack smirked.

The rugby player rolled his eyes. "To hell with your reputation, Harkness!" he retorted. "But I'll thank you to remember that any bad press _you_ garner reflects negatively on my girlfriend's professional reputation."

"You worry too much!" the model chortled, shaking his head. "Anyway, why would the press be stalking me? I'm sure they all have much more interesting things to be concerning themselves with. Rhys Williams' selection for the Welsh national team, for instance."

"Keep your voice down, idiot!" Rhys hissed, flushing scarlet. "No-one's supposed to know about that yet! Damn Gwen, I told her that in confidence!"

"Jeez, someone's touchy today!" Jack skated backwards a step or two, holding his hands out in front of him as if to ward off the rugby player's strictures. "Gwen and I tell each other everything; I'd've thought you'd've worked that one out by now. There are no secrets in our friendship. Except of course Christmas-gift-related secrets. Those are permitted- just."

As the Cardiff Blues' hooker rolled his eyes again, Jack elected to move the conversation on to safer topics.

"Anyway, we haven't had formal introductions yet! Yan, this is Rhys Williams, Gwen's significant other. Rhys, allow me to proudly- yes, and a little smugly!- present Ianto Jones, my boyfriend. And apparently a musical genius, although I haven't been able to talk him into playing for me yet…"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "And whose fault is that?" he demanded. "This is only the fifth date, Jack; and so far two have been in restaurants, one at an ice rink, and one in London. On the only date when you were actually in the same building as my violin, you were much more interested in the cheesecake."

The model smirked. "Well going by the logic you've just thrown at me, Ianto, I think it's safe to say that yes, you are indeed to blame."

"How do you work that one out?" the musician frowned.

Jack smirked again. "Well clearly your decision to make cheesecake was a defensive move, designed to distract me from recalling the existence of your violin."

Rhys rolled his eyes. "I'd give up if I were you, mate," he advised Ianto. "Harkness' logic is always creatively twisted and never makes sense to anyone but him. Yet to my amazement, all the times I've seen him in action a casual shrug and an engaging grin seem to have an uncanny way of confusing whoever he's arguing with into deciding that he's right."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm not so easily defeated," the musician smiled. "I'm not the kind of man who bows to twisted, self-serving logic. You need something a damn sight more intellectual than an engaging grin to beat me in an argument."

Jack raised an eyebrow, moving in close to whisper in the musician's ear softly enough for only him to hear. "You know what I've been fantasising about since I met you? Sucking you off whilst you play for me. I'm pretty good at blow jobs, you know- I have references."

Ianto stiffened, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the barrier more tightly and bit his lip. "Damn you, Jack! That's cheating!" he burst out, shifting uncomfortably.

Rhys looked at Jack with begrudging respect. "How the hell do you do that, Harkness?" he demanded. "Is there _anyone_ you can't force to bow to your logic?"

Jack looked undeniably smug. "I cheat," he informed the other two with a smirk. "I always cheat."

Slightly recovered now, Ianto smirked back. "Just wait 'til I introduce you to Naked Hide and Seek…"

It was Jack's turn to groan. "Something tells me you're a bit of a cheater yourself, Mr Jones…"

The musician grinned. "Excuse me! I prefer to call it creative winning, thank you very much. And if we make it to the seventh date you'll soon find out just how creative I can be…"

Jack bit his lip. "And what are you doing on Thursday?"

"Treating you to an impromptu concert. With my trousers _on_."

Rhys looked distinctly worried.


	37. Defying Economic Depression

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be fewer aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can see by the aliens, the BBC (and now also I believe Star? Some American channel, anyway) have the pleasure of owning the show.**

**Spoilers- None- there might be the odd hint at the show or adapted moment here and there, but they're impossible to pick up on unless you've seen that episode anyway.**

**Rating- T**

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I really appreciate your input and all your patience with this fic. You'll be happy to know that I have the rest of 'Matchmaking' plotted out, so all that remains is for it to be written. But I'm on a roll with it at the moment, so as long as my final essay of the year doesn't kill my creativity there shouldn't be any more breaks in this fic.**

**Special thanks special thanks special thanks to my awesome beta awesome beta awesome beta Amethystbutterflies Amethystbutterflies Amethystbutterflies for the weekend the weekend the weekend, the tickets the tickets the tickets, and especially especially especially for all your patience your patience your patience in Starbucks in Starbucks in Starbucks watching me watching me watching me write this write this write this. Caru'ch caru'ch caru'ch! *sits back and waits to be murdered***

**Now, whilst my beta is killing me, on with the story! Hope you enjoy! Xxx**

**x**

**x**

**Defying Economic Depressions**

**x**

It was some time on the Monday evening, reflecting on a very enjoyable date, that Jack recalled the promise he had made to Ianto regarding Tosh. Accordingly, he resolved to do something about it right away. Well, perhaps not _exactly_ this moment- there was a Dempsey and Makepeace repeat on 'Alibi', and a glass of wine within easy reach. But tomorrow, certainly. He would begin to make good on his promise tomorrow.

* * *

So it was that Tosh found herself surprised by a ring on the doorbell at approximately 10am on Tuesday morning. Surprised, in that she wasn't expecting Ianto; and the only other people to ever call round were takeout delivery drivers.

She was not quite sure whether to be more or less astonished when she tentatively opened the door to be blinded by a certain model's megawatt grin.

"Is something wrong, Jack?" she demanded anxiously. "Is Ianto okay?"

Jack frowned. "Ianto's fine, so far as I know," he said. "Why wouldn't he be?"

Tosh returned the expression in equal puzzlement. "Then what-?"

The model pouted. "Can't friends call on one another unannounced?" he demanded.

Tosh looked somewhat nonplussed, and the American's pout intensified.

"We _are_ friends, aren't we? Do say we are! Don't break my heart, Toshiko Sato."

Friends. It had a nice ring to it, the shy and lonely tech expert thought; and she smiled.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose we are."

Jack beamed. "Excellent! Can I come in? Or even better, can I drag you out? I need a shopping companion."

Tosh blanched, the scene in Harrods and Ianto's defeated face flashing through her mind.

"You can come in, certainly," she said hurriedly, opening the door wider to admit him.

Jack availed himself of the offer with a grin. "Well that's a start…" he commented as the door closed behind him. "And now that I'm here, permit me to endeavour to persuade you further. I promise you you'll have fun. I defy anyone to come shopping with me and not enjoy themselves."

Tosh raised an eyebrow. "I'm not Lisa- you can't bend me to your will by issuing a dare."

The model's eyes lit up. "Ooh, inside information! But that wasn't a dare, it was a general comment."

The tech expert frowned. "Seriously, Jack- I hate shopping."

"What, you never buy anything?" Jack pouted. "Not even clothes?"

Tosh looked down at her patched and fading jeans and her slightly shabby sweatshirt, then across at the cupboard containing her DVDs. She couldn't resist.

"Do I look as if I buy clothes?"

The model chuckled. "Did you steal all them records?" he challenged.

Tosh grinned. "Close, but no cigar," she responded. "You forgot the 'I see what you mean love'."

The American shrugged unrepentantly. "In my defence, it's at least six months since I last watched Beiderbecke."

Tosh stepped hopefully in the direction of the DVD cabinet. Jack stopped her with a hand on the shoulder.

"With the greatest possible respect, love, I have no wish to view your DVD collection."

Tosh raised an eyebrow. "This is a Jack/Ianto inside joke double entendre thing that I'm not privy too, isn't it?"

Jack had the grace to look a trifle abashed. "Sorry; it's frightfully rude of me. Forgive me?"

"Only if you don't drag me shopping," Tosh responded.

"Oh, you're smart!" the model commented with a grin. "I like you."

"If you like me you won't subject me to the living hell that is clothes shopping," she pushed home her advantage.

"But if you don't come with me I shall be very lonely and miserable, and I'll have no choice but to decide that you hate me," Jack returned with a pout augmented with the merest hint of a sniffle.

Tosh patted his arm. "I told you- I don't hate _you_; I hate shopping."

The model raised an eyebrow. "Honey, shopping and I- we're synonymous."

"In that case- I hate you." The tech expert poked her tongue out cheekily, and predictably enough, Jack pouted.

"Now that's not very nice."

"I'm not very nice to people who drag me shopping."

The American grinned triumphantly. "Aha! If you're only nasty to people who drag you shopping, and you've been nasty to me, that means you now _have_ to come shopping with me to cancel out the nastiness."

Tosh shook her head. "No I don't. You can't lawyer me, Jack- I never said my nastiness was exclusive to people who drag me shopping."

"But you implied that it was the dragging shopping which incited the nastiness in this case," the model pointed out.

The tech expert grinned. "Ah, but implication is flimsy circumstantial evidence at best- it'll never stand up in court."

Jack summoned his best 'downcast' look. "No; you've scared it into a permanent downward position. Ianto will not be happy with you at all."

Tosh covered a grin with difficulty. "Oh no! How tragic! How can I fix this horrific circumstance?"

The model smirked. "Come shopping with me."

"Ok, now I am seriously worried about your biology…"

"You can worry about it further in the technological shop of your choice in the St David's centre. If you come shopping with me, my biology might even see its way clear to paying the bills…" Jack's voice was honeyed and persuasive.

Tosh knew she shouldn't. She would feel so guilty afterwards, and she had so much work that she was supposed to be doing today… But the thought of a leisurely browse through a technological shop where someone else was footing the bill was too delicious to resist; especially since it gave her a chance to get to know her best friend's boyfriend better.

"Alright," she agreed mock-reluctantly, and Jack beamed.

"That's my girl!"

* * *

Much later, she came to regret her decision just a little; but by all accounts the shopping trip started well. True to his word, Jack allowed her a leisurely forty-five minutes in Currys Digital. He didn't even complain, hurry her, or distract her with silly jokes. She was vaguely aware that the model was spending most of the time texting someone- Ianto, possibly- but she did not comment. She was in no position to complain about the conduct of the man with the credit card- for Jack remained true to his word on that count too.

"No, it's my penance," he declared as he pushed her credit card aside, handing his own to the cashier.

Tosh subsided without much protest- she could somehow tell from the model's words and the look in his eyes that every minute she had blissfully enjoyed in the technological shop was about to be succeeded by two painfully long minutes in a clothes shop of some kind.

She was right- as soon as they left Currys Jack dragged her straight into the menswear department of Reiss. Well, she supposed that since he had been so angelic in her choice of shop, it was his turn to have a little fun. Fishing in her bag for her mobile, she prepared to while away the time with a game of 'Forgotten Warrior'.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Jack had other ideas. "Sorry honey, as my fashion advisor for the day, I need you on hand with an opinion at all times," he informed her, shaking his head at the phone.

Tosh blinked, perplexed. Jack Harkness intended to ask _her_ opinion on fashion? Had he _seen_ what she was wearing? But since he had been so kind to her, she didn't feel that it was within her power to refuse him anything he asked today.

"Um, ok…" she agreed cautiously, tucking her phone away again.

Jack beamed. "Excellent! Now tell me- the red or the green?"

He held them up in front of himself one at a time, and Tosh eyed them critically. Neither suited him half as well as the shade of blue he was wearing, she thought, but she didn't have the heart to tell him.

"The green," she decided. "The red is more Ianto than you."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Jack smiled and hung the red shirt carefully back on the rack, passing her the green. "Here, be a darling and hold this for me?"

Their time in the shop continued in this vein for another thirty minutes or so, and Tosh was astonished to note that Jack actually seemed to be listening to her opinions in spite of the blatantly obvious fact that what she knew about fashion would fit on the back of an envelope and still leave room for the Gettysburg Address.

Three hundred pounds later, they left the shop, the tech expert slightly stunned that that amount of money had only bought four shirts.

Jack, on the other hand, appeared quite unperturbed by the spending, if his grin was anything to go by.

"Your turn now!" he announced, taking her hand and hustling her in the direction of Marks and Spencer.

"Don't I even get to choose the shop?" Tosh asked breathlessly, carried along by the model's sheer exuberance.

Jack paused for the briefest second to look at her. "You're an M&S woman, right?"

Tosh raised an eyebrow whilst she had the chance. "Actually I was going to pick the Apple store."

"Heresy!" the American responded in mock-horror, resuming frogmarching her in the direction of the enormous branch of M&S. "Not buying clothes is a travesty. It's like being a 'Wicked' fan and not knowing every word of 'Defying Gravity'."

Tosh's eyes lit up. "Something has changed within me; something is not the same…" she quoted.

Jack grinned broadly and joined in on the next line, picking up the tune and lifting the recitation from speech to song:

"I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game…"

Tosh simply stared. It was true that Jack was scarily similar to John Barrowman in many ways- in fact, if the model was not actually a clone of the entertainer, the tech expert theorised that he had been pulled through a rift in time and space from an alternate universe in which John had elected to live by his looks rather than by his other talents. But for all this speculation, Tosh had _not_ expected the model to have a voice to rival the West End leading man's.

Noticing that she had stopped reciting, Jack quirked an eyebrow and made 'louder!' motions with his hands. Very quietly and self-consciously, the tech expert caught up on the next line.

"Too late for second-guessing; too late to go back to sleep… It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes, and leap…"

As she got further into the words, Tosh found herself becoming more and more confident, so that by the time they reached the grand finale she was belting out the lyrics with as much gusto as Jack, eyes sparkling.

"…And soon I'll match them in renown; and nobody in all of Oz- no wizard that there _is_ or _was_ is ever gonna bring _M-E-e_ **DO-O-O-O-OWN**…"

Gasping, Tosh gave up on the final note long before Idina Menzel always did on her beloved 'Wicked' soundtrack. Jack managed perhaps five seconds more (albeit an octave lower) before he collapsed beside her on the convenient bench onto which she had sunk, breathless and laughing.

"You know, you have quite the voice," he commented.

Tosh blushed, just starting to become aware of the curious stares the pair were attracting from passers-by.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I must say that it usually only comes out in the shower."

"It should come out on stage," Jack responded. "My charity does fundraising concerts every couple of months, and we're always on the lookout for new talent. You should come and entertain us- it's great fun."

"For models oozing with an excess of confidence, maybe," the tech expert retorted. "In case you didn't notice, I happen to be far more reticent. But I'll happily come and watch the concerts and donate money. If you want new talent you should try Ianto- besides being a first class violinist and pianist, he has a pretty good voice too. 'Our little Catholic choirboy', Lisa and I used to call him at uni when he sang in the shower. He used to respond to that by singing the filthiest songs as he could think of; it amused Li no end. He has quite an astonishing repertoire- so vast that I swear he must have made half the songs up himself."

Jack laughed. "That's fascinating to know," he grinned. "I love hearing your uni stories. But really, we do try to keep the shows reasonably family-friendly. The double entendre abounds but the language stays clean. That said, I definitely intend to recruit Yan for our next show to play violin; I had no idea he plays piano as well."

"Oh yes," Tosh nodded. "Not quite as well as violin, that was always his first love; but he really is quite a brilliant pianist. Though he never really gets the chance to play any more because he doesn't have easy access to a piano at the moment."

Catching the look in the model's eye, she frowned sharply. "No! Do _not_ go out and buy him one! He would hate that."

"I wasn't thinking anything of the kind!" Jack protested. "But I happen to know several locations within Cardiff where one can find a piano; it would be as simple as having him a key cut or giving him a couple of access codes, depending which location suits him better." He winked at the tech expert, who had the grace to blush.

"Oh. I'm sorry; I do tend to leap to conclusions sometimes. It's a terrible fault of mine."

"Don't we all?" Jack shrugged, then grinned. "And now, Ms Sato, I believe we had an appointment with the women's department of M&S- don't think you can distract me from shopping as easily as all that! I'd need an entire musical before you'd be able to sidetrack me."

Tosh chuckled as he hauled her to her feet. "Well I do know most of the words to all the other songs…" she offered hopefully. "And my showerhead tells me that I do a mean 'I'm Not That Girl'- you could take me home so I can introduce you."

The model laughed. "Sorry honey, as fun as a sing-off would be, it simply isn't a tempting enough offer to drag me away from a shopping centre. But some other time I'd love to take you up on that. Hell, some other day I'm dragging you down the West End with me, seeing as Ianto seems so reluctant to go."

Tosh couldn't hide the way her eyes lit up at the thought, and the American smirked.

"Oh, it seems that I've hit on an incentive to get you into a clothes shop! Go on- if you let me drag you round M&S and dress you up, I promise I'll go straight home and book the tickets."

Everyone has a certain temptation which will cause their morals to desert them, and West End tickets were Tosh's. She had been longing for years to go down and take in a show, but she never seemed to have the money or the right companion. Now that she wouldn't have to pay, and that she'd found someone whom she knew would relish every second of the show just as much as she would, she found she could not resist.

"Alright," she agreed, allowing him to march her in the direction of the shop. At least it was only M&S and not some ridiculously expensive designer store…

* * *

Once inside M&S, the tech expert discovered that far from just modelling clothes, Jack really did have an eye for fashion- period military greatcoat aside. He also seemed to have a talent for shopping with people who hate clothes shopping: instead of spending hours browsing the hundreds of racks, he zipped round the store like a man on a mission, here and there pouncing on a particular item and adding it to the ever-growing heap in Tosh's doubtful arms.

When he had picked out some fifteen or twenty items, he led the slightly dazed tech expert in the direction of the changing rooms.

"Call it five… You can keep a close eye on me to count how many I give her and check that I'm not nicking anything," he suggested to the woman in charge, who smiled as she handed Tosh a circle of dark blue plastic.

"Very well, sir- I'll be watching you closely," she said, eyelashes fluttering. Tosh didn't have the heart to tell the hopeful redhead that Jack was gay- if the fact that the tech expert was to all appearances the model's girlfriend didn't put her off, chances are that she wouldn't even see Jack's sexuality as a hurdle.

Oblivious to Tosh's thoughts and apparently to the flirting as well, the American was busy sorting the heap of clothes into outfits.

"There you go honey, get those on then come and show me," he ordered, pressing the first set of hangers into her hands.

Tosh obediently followed the order, ducking into the nearest cubicle. She wanted to keep an ear out for the conversation between Jack and the shop assistant.

"So do you come shopping with your girlfriend a lot?" she heard the redhead purr.

Jack's grin was audible in his tone. "Oh, I shop with my girl friends week in, week out- it's a bit of an addiction," he said.

"And this would be… a linear series of girlfriends?" the redhead asked doubtfully.

"Oh no, a collective," Jack responded cheerfully. "I'm not the kind of man to confine myself to one girl friend at a time."

Tosh struggled to suppress her laughter as she changed quickly. She could practically hear the thickly mascaraed false lashes rustling as the assistant blinked rapidly in astonishment.

"And your… your… _companion_ knows about these other girlfriends, does she?"

Once again, Jack's grin was audible. "Oh dear; if she didn't before, she does now!" he commented.

Sensing this as her cue to appear, Tosh stepped from the cubicle to display the outfit. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I don't mind," she commented as she did a quick twirl for the model's perusal. "With Ianto on the go as well, I simply don't have the energy for you to be exclusive."

Jack suppressed a snort of laughter with difficulty. "Now that _is _a relief to know!" he grinned. "I do wish Gwen and Donna and Lisa and Sarah Jane were all as understanding as you, darling."

The shop assistant's face was a picture, and Tosh had to snatch the next outfit out of the model's hands and run to the cubicle before she collapsed in hysterics and gave the game away. Outside the cubicle, Jack controlled his own amusement with some trouble.

"On a far more practical level, ditch the trousers and try the shirt with the pencil skirt!" he called through the wall, and Tosh hastened to follow his instructions.

Thirty minutes and seven outfits later, Tosh glanced at her watch and marvelled at how the time was flying. She had never had this much fun shopping before. She hadn't even thought it was possible to enjoy trying on clothes. But by the time the bemused redhead had hurried off for her lunch break looking completely traumatised five minutes earlier, the tech expert's sides were aching from suppressing her laughter.

"Oh my goodness, her _face_!" Tosh chortled as she stepped out of the cubicle in her own clothes once more and passed Jack the 'yeses' from the final outfit.

The model cracked up as he tried to control the apparently sentient hangers in his hands. "You, my darling, have a wicked sense of humour," he scolded her as she helped him to his feet, gathering up the rest of their shopping bags.

"What can I say? I'm rapidly learning from an expert," she retorted, poking her tongue out at him and making him laugh.

"Now, let's go and pay for all this, shall we? And don't even think about protesting." He held a finger to her lips to stop her from responding. "You looked gorgeous in all of this, and letting me pay is part of that ticket deal I'm bribing you with."

Unable to speak, Tosh shrugged her acceptance. How could she protest at the model's generous gift when it was a stepping stone on her path to the much coveted 'Wicked' tickets? Anyway, she had a very particular reason for wanting to look gorgeous at the moment, and had been mourning only that morning that her wardrobe was full of dull old items, with a distinct lack of 'date wear'. And then Jack had breezed through her front door like a fairy godfather and insisted on revitalising her image in a manner which had brought more enjoyment than shopping ever had before. How could she disappoint or upset him by complaining or protesting?

* * *

Seven minutes later, Tosh walked out of M&S in a daze, three dark green carrier bags clutched in her hands and Jack's arm linked through hers.

"Where to now, beautiful?" the model enquired as they began strolling through the shopping centre once more.

The tech expert cast her eyes around for a shop where she could make Jack spend on himself rather than her. There was only so much gratuitous treating she could cope with in one day. Turning a corner, her gaze settled on the rather promisingly named 'Officers Club'. She glanced down at the greatcoat slung over Jack's arm then back at the shop, beginning to walk in its direction.

"Officer's Cl-" She broke off sharply as she noticed the man stepping out of the shop, the colour draining from her face.

Unfortunately, before she had the chance to drag the perplexed and concerned model in the opposite direction, she was assaulted by a familiar and most unwelcome voice.

"Toshiko Sato! Fancy seeing you within a hundred miles of a non-technological shop! And with carrier bags in hand, no less- whatever is happening to the universe?" it mocked.

"It's bloody screwing me over, that's what!" Tosh muttered through gritted teeth, baring her teeth at the approaching man in what might just about have passed as a smile to a blind alcoholic.

"Adam."


	38. Toxic Exes

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be fewer aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can see by the aliens, the BBC (and now also I believe Star? Some American channel, anyway) have the pleasure of owning the show.**

**Spoilers- None- there might be the odd hint at the show or adapted moment here and there, but they're impossible to pick up on unless you've seen that episode anyway.**

**Rating- T**

**A huge thank you to everyone who has read and alerted and favourited and especially to those who've reviewed. You'll (hopefully) be happy to know that chapters 39 and 40 are already written and beta'ed, so I'll be posting every other day and hoping that my muse lets me get ahead with 41 onwards in the meantime. For now, I hope you enjoy 38!**

**Special thanks to Amethystbutterflies for the beta, the great expectations, and the price of fish. I'm so lucky to have a beta who knows my work better than I do so she can point out all my little continuity slips! Caru'ch! xxx**

**x**

**x**

**Toxic Exes**

**x**

Adam Smith ran his eyes once up and down Toshiko, a slight sneer curling the corner of his lips before he turned his attention to her companion. Jack looked as good as ever, dressed in tight Levis, a white Prada shirt and a powder blue cashmere jumper which brought out the intense colour of his eyes. The greatcoat was slung over his arm, leaving the incredibly complimentary outfit on display, and one quick glance was all it took to draw a whistle of admiration from Adam.

"Wow, that's one hot bit of stuff you've netted, 'Shiko!"

Tosh snorted derogatively. "Me? Don't make me laugh, Adam. Jack Harkness is way out of my league. And _don't_ call me-"

Ignoring the end of her sentence, Adam cut in with a frown. "Jack Harkness? What's Jack Harkness got to do with anything?"

The tech expert rolled her eyes. "Look a little closer, Adam…" She waved a hand gracefully in Jack's direction, and Adam's jaw dropped.

"Bloody hell, you _are_ Jack Harkness! Sorry mate- didn't recognise you with your clothes on!"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Yes, that _does_ pose a problem to a certain class of individual," he said coldly.

Adam ignored his tone. "So tell me," he said confidentially, as though he and Jack were suddenly best friends, "what _are_ you doing with _her_?"

His tone held a sizeable amount of disdain, and Jack frowned, slipping an arm round Tosh's shoulders.

"She happens to be a very good friend of mine, actually."

Adam looked astonished. "How the hell did _that_ happen? And it's gotta be pretty recent; she certainly didn't know any celebrities when I last saw her."

Tosh smirked. She had been holding her bombshell close throughout the conversation, and sensed that now was the opportune moment to drop it.

"Oh, we met through Ianto," she said breezily. "His taste in men has greatly improved of late."

Her announcement had the desired effect: for one long moment Adam was rendered speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a slimy fish.

"Y-_you're_ dating _Ianto Jones_?" he gasped out finally, and Jack nodded with a grin.

"Sure am. You got a problem with that?"

"I've got a problem understanding it!" Adam retorted. "You're gorgeous, loaded and famous- you could get anybody in the world. What could you possibly see in a penniless nobody who's crap in bed?"

"He's not crap in bed!" Jack loyally and pre-emptively defended Ianto hotly. "Pretty fucking fabulous, actually."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I see. You haven't actually slept with him yet. Well, here's some expert advice- don't waste your time. Plenty more fish in the sea… Almost all of which will doubtless prove better at satisfying a man than Ianto Frigid Jones- even the straight ones."

Jack raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "If Ianto Jones is frigid then I'm the Pope. And I won't impinge on your enjoyment of those 'other fish'- I'm perfectly happy with my gorgeous, sexy boyfriend, thanks," he replied icily. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a beautiful young lady to take to lunch. Good day."

Without waiting for a response, he tightened his arm around Tosh's shoulders and drew her away.

As soon as they were sufficiently beyond Adam's earshot, the tech expert startled the model by growling violently.

"I'm a pretty gentle person, really," she said vehemently, "but every time I see that man I just want to rip his fucking head off with my bare hands."

Under any other circumstances, Jack would have been flabbergasted to hear the placid tech expert swear so fervidly. As it was, he pulled her into a hug and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

"I know the feeling," he muttered darkly in response, then mock-glared at the woman in his arms. "But let's get one thing quite clear right now- I am _not_ out of your league, my darling. You're beautiful and intelligent and sweet with an understated but wicked sense of humour; and if I were straight I would be seriously interested," he informed her sincerely.

Tosh blinked in astonishment. "Really?" She stared at him, hard, as if she had suddenly developed the ability to use Legilmency and work out if he was lying.

He laughed, squeezing her tighter. "Hell yes! Mind you," he added with a grin, "if I were straight I would have married Gwen straight out of uni, so I probably would never have met you. Which would be a crying shame, so I'm very happy that I'm decidedly bent. And now we've got that settled… May I treat you to lunch, milady?"

Tosh grinned, pretending to consider. "As long as you promise not to tell Ianto that we saw Adam," she bargained.

"Alright," the model agreed. "I promise- on the condition that over lunch you tell me what the deal is with that git."

"Okay," Tosh nodded. "So- dinner?"

The American grinned. "Dinner. Now, I can either take you somewhere glamorous and expensive, or cheap but fun- your choice."

Tosh glanced down at her faded jeans and plain navy sweatshirt and laughed. "I hardly think I'm dressed for glamorous and expensive, do you?" she teased. "Anyway, if you're going to make me talk about Adam, we're going to need to go somewhere that has paper serviettes for me to shred."

Jack chuckled in response. "Alright, cheap but fun it is! Now tell me- do you have any moral or dietary objections to McDonalds?"

Tosh grinned. "Nope. As a matter of fact I happen to be fatally addicted to crunchie mcflurries; but unfortunately Ianto hates McDonalds so I have to sneak off to indulge very clandestinely." She pouted, and Jack laughed.

"Excellent! Gwen has a whole heap of moral objections and as a doctor, Owen has just as many complaints about how damned unhealthy it is. We should make a pact to creep off together whenever we get a craving."

The tech expert smiled. "I can go with that."

* * *

Within a quarter of an hour, the two were seated inside McDonalds with Big Macs, large fries, crunchie mcflurries and cardboard cups of abysmal tea.

"Eurgh!" Jack grimaced as he took a sip. "It's like drinking dishwater."

Tosh raised an eyebrow. "So you bought it why?"

The model grinned. "Because if there are two things that I've learned from my mother, the second is that a cup of tea makes everything that little bit better. And in this case… Catharsis, I think they call it, when something painful does you good. Cathartic dishwater, this is." He raised his cup to the tech expert and she laughed, lifting her own to clink against Jack's.

"So what's the other thing you learned from your mother?"

Jack smiled softly. "That the most important thing in life is to be yourself no matter what, because if people don't love you for your unique and beautiful self, they're not worth the worry-space in your head. The people who mind don't matter and the people who matter don't mind."

Tosh took a thoughtful sip of her tea, barely seeming to notice the watery taste. "That's a very apt sentiment, given the conversation we're about to have," she said.

Jack laid a hand on her arm. "Tell me about Adam," he prompted, and she sighed.

"Oh goodness, where do I start? You'll have gathered, I suppose, that Adam Smith is Ianto's ex; his last boyfriend before you?"

Jack nodded, squeezing her arm then removing his hand to attend to his burger. She smiled whimsically, taking another sip of tea.

"When they met, Ianto was twenty-two and living with me- we got a place in Cardiff together when we graduated uni. He wanted to go back to Wales, and my mum had just passed away- all I had was my friends, and Lisa can be a little too exuberant about _life_ to cope with in a time of grief. So I followed Ianto to Cardiff, and we got a flat together."

She paused to nibble a chip, and Jack laid his hand on her arm again.

"I'm sorry about your mom," he murmured, and Tosh smiled sadly.

"Thanks. So anyway, Ianto was twenty-two when he met Adam. He was a handsome, confident young man with a great life ahead of him. He was working in an office at the time; some boring corporate job to save up the money for an agent so he could make a career out of his music. Then he met Adam Smith in Starbucks on a lunchtime coffee run. I'll begrudgingly admit that Adam is not completely unfortunate-looking," (Jack's lips twitched into a half-smile as he noted the 'Legally Blonde' quote) "and, well, you've seen Ianto. Their attraction was instant, and mutual. Adam had forgotten his wallet; Ianto offered to pay for his coffee in exchange for a date. I never liked him much; he always seemed a bit of a slimy creep to me. But Ianto was happy and I didn't like to rock the boat by saying anything; so I just kept my doubts to myself and kept a close eye on Adam."

Jack nodded understandingly, taking a sip of his tea. Tosh heaved another sigh.

"So yeah, I kept quiet. Lisa, of course, told Ianto precisely what she thought of Adam; all that served to do was drive him further into Adam's arms. About a year into the relationship, Ianto moved into Adam's flat. I couldn't afford the rent on the one we shared on my own, and I didn't relish the idea of living with a stranger; so I traded it in for the one-bed flat I have now. After that, of course, I had much less opportunity to keep an eye on Adam; but I was still seeing Ianto- and I didn't like what I was seeing. His confidence was diminishing; he didn't seem to be standing up for what he believed in or what he wanted any more. He seemed to be changing; bending to fit a mould that Adam had built for him. No matter what Lisa and I said when we saw him, it didn't seem to make a blind bit of difference- he was losing faith in himself and he simply didn't believe us when we told him what an amazing person he was. And he kept going on about how lucky he was to have Adam; how he didn't deserve him; how he couldn't believe that someone like Adam would fall for someone as worthless as him."

A long-forgotten chip dropped from Jack's hand into his tea as the model sat frozen, staring at the tech expert, but the American didn't even notice as it sank in the murky liquid with a splash. Equally oblivious, Tosh continued, unconsciously shredding a stack of serviettes like she had predicted she would.

"Let me see now; they met in April 2006, I think, so it must have been round about August last year, about two weeks before his birthday, that Ianto was made redundant. Credit crunch and all that… Anyway, it really cut him up. He'd saved up more than enough for an agent by that point, even though he hadn't seen about getting one because Adam 'didn't want him to go through the pain of rejection' when he found that people wouldn't pay to hear him play."

Tosh added in the air quotes, and her voice was full of scorn.

"Adam always did make light of Ianto's musical abilities; Li and I reckoned he was jealous. Anyway, given the economic climate at the time, Ianto struggled to find another job; and Adam had vetoed outright the idea of Yan using his savings to try and set himself up in the music world. So he was pretty depressed and he allowed himself to be manoeuvred into a position where he felt totally dependent on Adam. Five weeks later, midway through September, Ianto returned from yet another unsuccessful job interview and walked in on Adam in bed with another man."

Jack's hand froze once again with his burger halfway to his mouth. "Shit," he commented succinctly.

Tosh shook her head. "Oh, that's not the height of it," she said. "You'd think that after being caught out, Adam would have thrown himself at Ianto's feet, apologising profusely, begging for forgiveness, and swearing blind that it didn't mean anything and that it's Ianto that he loves, right? Wrong. Adam laughed- actually _laughed_- at the expression of total shock and betrayal on Yan's face and told him that if he wasn't so crap in bed, he'd've been able to satisfy Adam and then Adam wouldn't have needed to seek _actual_ pleasure elsewhere."

Having run out of serviettes, Tosh viciously ripped her empty fries carton to shreds whilst she spoke. Jack watched her furiously moving fingers, eyes narrowing.

"The bastard!" he exclaimed. "The bloody fucking bastard! No wonder Ianto's so-" He broke off, and Tosh nodded.

"Yeah," she said seriously. "Look, Jack, I know this seven date thing is about you and your own issues arising from the crap that you've been put though. But don't forget that Ianto's past hasn't exactly been a bed of roses either; and after Adam it's hard for him not to take this as a criticism. His confidence was very naturally completely shaken by Adam, so be gentle with him, yeah?"

"Of course!" Jack looked insulted even to have been asked. "Is there anything else I need to know so I don't unwittingly cock everything up?"

Tosh raised an eyebrow. "You should probably be aware that ever since that incident he's been fiercely independent. He crashed on my sofa for a couple of weeks doing the usual heartbroken, can't-face-the-world type things; then one day he suddenly walked out of the flat without telling me where he was going. He returned that evening when I was just about full-on panicking and Lisa was five minutes away from catching a train; and told me that he'd found a house to rent, signed the papers for it, and would be moving into it the following day. He also told me that he'd signed a contract with an agency, and he was going to try and make a go of his music."

She sighed heavily, lost in the memories.

"It was like a runaway train; there was nothing we could do to stop it, he was so determined. I mean, he was only doing what Li and I had always hoped he'd do; but I must say that it threw us that he'd done it all so fast and so soon. Still, it did all turn out pretty well for him. He managed to make the cheap two-up-two-down into a cosy little home in spite of it being in such a concerning area of the city; and I think that throwing himself into his music really helped. Some of his best compositions were written in those months following his break-up."

Jack blinked. "He composes? I never knew that!"

Tosh treated the model to a Stare. "You've known him a week and a half, Jack- have you even heard him _play_ yet?"

"Well- no," the model confessed. "That's the plan for Thursday- he's going to give me an impromptu concert. With his trousers on…" he murmured as an afterthought, almost to himself.

The tech expert gave him a long, worried look and then decided that it was better not to ask.

"So anyway, what I was trying to say before I got sidetracked telling you how Yan fought to rebuild his life, is that he really is fiercely independent. He won't even accept a small loan from a friend, he's so wary of being dependent upon _anyone_. You have no idea how much it cost him just to _let_ you drive him down to London and pay the hotel bill. I mean, he's always liked to be organised and know what's going on; but since Adam it's been almost an obsession. He has serious trust issues now, and a deep-seated need to know exactly where he stands."

"Oh, _shit_!" Jack gasped, the tech expert's words sparking a memory. "Fuck! The phone thing! I was such a fucking bastard. And then yesterday… Oh god!" He groaned, burying his head in his hands.

Tosh looked at him sharply. "What happened yesterday?" she demanded.

Jack groaned again. "I introduced him to a friend in a jokey way which went a little wrong; and it upset him a little. I mean, I apologised immediately, of course; and he did tell me that he suffers from self-doubt from time to time. But god, I was such a wanker…"

The tech expert regarded his stricken expression through narrowed eyes, then decided that since Ianto hadn't phoned her in a panic the previous day as he was wont to do, it couldn't have been quite as catastrophic as the model's actions were implying.

"You didn't know the extent though," she consoled him with a pat on the arm. "But you _do_ know now; so I feel obliged to warn you, Jack- if you _**ever**_ hurt him I will hunt you to the end of the universe and hack off your balls with nail scissors. Are we clear?"

The model visibly flinched at the threat. "We're clear!" he said emphatically, taking her hands. "I promise you, Toshiko, I would never deliberately and knowingly do anything to hurt him. I- damn it, I haven't felt this way about anyone in years! The last thing I want to do is fuck this up. He's so special that sometimes when I'm with him I have to pinch myself to check that it isn't a dream. What could someone as young and gorgeous and talented as him ever see in an old poser like me?"

Not being in a position to hug the model, Tosh squeezed his hand comfortingly instead. "Oh god, don't you start!" she groaned. A particular TV show popped unexpectedly into her head and she called on its most famous line now, having realised that film and TV quotes were the fastest way to put herself on the model's wavelength.

"Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once," she told him, forgoing the exaggerated French accent. "You, Jack Harkness, are beyond any doubt the best boyfriend Ianto has ever had. You are kind and generous and amusing. Any fool can see that you adore him, and for the most part you're considerate and tender in your dealings with him; and you treat him like an equal, which is exactly what he needs. Ok, so you can be bloody thoughtless and your sense of humour can apparently run away with you and you let whatever's in your head come spilling out of your mouth without much thought for the consequences. But nobody is perfect; and damn it, Jack, you make him happy. And you have no idea what that means to me… So thank you."

He smiled, and she smiled back.

"Oh, and you're bloody gorgeous as well, so you can stop with this pity trip right here!" she ordered firmly, and Jack laughed.

"Yes, ma'am!" He saluted sharply, watching as she peeled the loyalty card off the side of the cardboard cup and painstakingly placed the sticker on it. She caught his eye, and chuckled.

"Well, you never know when you're going to need a little catharsis, do you?" she asked, flipping the card in his direction.

Jack caught it and looked at it. Then, to her complete astonishment, he slipped off the bench and got down on one knee beside her, holding out the loyalty card for all the world as if it were an engagement ring.

"Toshiko Sato, you are a very beautiful, intelligent and engaging woman and I like you most awfully, just as you are, even though you can be bloody scary sometimes. Will you commit to six more trips to McDonalds with me so that we can redeem these together?"

The tech expert burst out laughing as she took the card off him. "Alright," she said, feeling happier than she had in a long time in spite of the shock of running into Adam. "Now get up, you idiot, or people will think that you're _actually_ proposing."

Jack chuckled too as he got to his feet; then he frowned sharply as a sudden thought struck him. "Do you think I should stop proposing to Ianto? I mean, he knows I'm not serious, but do you think that it makes him feel dependent or inferior in some way?"

Tosh considered the question. "No, I don't think you need to stop, really," she concluded. "I mean, as you say, he knows that it's not serious; and it's quite the established part of your relationship now, isn't it? I think he likes that. Anyway, in turning you down he gets to assert his independence in a way which you can't override with money like you do when you insist on paying for things."

Jack nodded slowly, a frown still gracing his face. "So you think I should stop footing all the bills?"

"I didn't say that," Tosh responded quickly. "I mean, I shouldn't be telling you this really- he'd hate it if he knew. But I do worry about him, and I know that he can't afford to be taking you out on dates to restaurants and hotels and places like that. So do keep on paying the bills; because you _can_ afford it."

"Restaurants? Hotels? Damn it, Tosh, I don't give a toss _where_ our dates are as long as I'm with him! Homemade coffee out of a flask in Bute Park with Ianto would be preferable to an expensive coffee in Starbucks with anyone else. Does he not realise that?"

The tech expert raised an eyebrow. "Well, you did mention something along those lines in that gorgeous restaurant down in London; but with confidence as low as Ianto's… You might need to reinforce it. Find some subtle way of telling him again-" Tosh realised her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. She didn't think Jack Harkness would recognise the concept of 'subtle' if it danced naked in front of him singing 'This Is Not Me'. "Or better yet, just _do_ it. You'll know it's a success if he drinks the coffee."

The model frowned in confusion, and Tosh laughed.

"He can be a bit fussy about his coffee," she explained. "Instant is an absolute no-go, and he does prefer coffee made by himself."

"I'll bear that in mind…" Jack cast an eye over the remnants of their meal. "Time to move on from all this seriousness and go and have some more fun, do you reckon?"

Tosh smiled, ruefully sweeping the snowy heap of mutilated serviettes into her burger box. "Now that sounds like a plan."

The model grinned. "Excellent! Now, I do have an errand of mercy to run- do tell me, what size shoe are you?"

The tech expert blinked at the unexpected question. "Six. Why?"

"Same size as Gwen. Fabulous!" The model beamed as he gathered up all their carrier bags whilst Tosh cleared off the trays into the bin. "Come on- I need to drag you to Kurt Geiger. You can road-test her Christmas present for me."


	39. Inner Voices

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be fewer aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can see by the aliens, the BBC (and now also I believe Star? Some American channel, anyway) have the pleasure of owning the show.**

**Spoilers- None- there might be the odd hint at the show or adapted moment here and there, but they're impossible to pick up on unless you've seen that episode anyway.**

**Rating- T**

**A massive thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! I'm so glad that you're enjoying this so far.**

**This chapter is dedicated to everyone who responded to the last chapter (whether in a review, in their head or out loud to the computer screen) by expressing a desire to punch, kick, maim or otherwise torture, injure or destroy Adam. I'm handing him over to you guys, so do your worst and be creative- laughter inspires me to write faster, so if you amuse me you'll be doing your bit towards getting to the end without any more breaks. I mentioned in the last chapter that 40 is written; well 41 is now as well, though as yet unbeta'ed. And if I know my muse, 42 will be finished by tomorrow night at latest. I'll stick with the posting every other day though, just in case!**

**Also, I apologise for the disappointing length of the chapter; but in my defence you have just had two hyper-long ones. And it won't be long until 40 is posted… =)**

**Special thanks to my wonderful beta Amethystbutterflies for the essay encouragement, the summer hype and the awesome debate last night. Caru'ch! xxx**

**x**

**x**

**Inner Voices**

**x**

When the phone rang at approximately four o'clock that Tuesday afternoon, Ianto was midway through playing one of his favourite compositions. Quite why he had chosen this particular piece to play that day, he wasn't quite sure- it was some months since he had last brought it out, for in spite of his own acknowledgement of the quality it was not part of his usual repertoire. He had written the tune a year or so ago: a fast, bracing piece which screamed 'empowerment' in every note. As such, it was one which he usually reserved for when he needed to feel like that; drawing strength from the strong, determined music.

So why today? Today he already felt empowered- he'd spent a good forty-five minutes that morning exchanging cheeky texts with a certain unbelievably sexy, stupendously rich American model who apparently, incredibly, was extremely interested in him, Ianto Jones. And if that wasn't empowering he didn't know what was.

He supposed, therefore, that the reason he had found his hand stretching towards the sheet music for _this_ piece today was that all the good things about his relationship with Jack were dredging up memories of other, less pleasant relationships. The kind of relationships that he had long since come to feel he deserved. What he had with Jack was too good to be true…

The sound of the phone severed his concentration and he sighed in annoyance, laying aside his violin carefully. With any luck it would be Gwen, calling about some concert options.

"Hello?" He tried to keep his annoyance at being interrupted out of his tones. It wouldn't do to be snappish with the woman who was bringing him money (albeit frustratingly slowly.)

"_Ianto Jones. It's been a long time. But I hear __**you've**__ landed on your feet, you mercenary little rent boy._"

Ianto froze, the colour draining from his face as his knees gave way and he collapsed onto the sofa. Of all the voices that he had not expected to hear…

"What do you want?" he whispered, trying to make the demand harsh and failing utterly.

On the other end of the line, Adam Smith laughed. "_I ran into your precious Toshiko in the St David's Centre. She was with a man. Deluded twat seemed to think he's your boyfriend, but that can't be right. Jack Harkness is a drop dead gorgeous world famous model- what the hell would he be doing with someone like you? He could have anyone he wanted; aside from being stunning, word on the street is that he's a millionaire to boot. So tell me, Jones, why __**is**__ he with you?_"

Ianto had no answer. He supposed there must be a reason, but since he himself was yet to discover it, he had no idea what to tell Adam.

"I don't- He likes me?" he ventured cautiously.

Another mocking laugh drifted down the line. "_Pull the other one. You have all the personality of a wet dishrag, Jones. And he claims you're good in bed so it's evident that he hasn't slept with you, so he doesn't want you for sex. You're a complete nobody, so it can't be for publicity. There's absolutely nothing that you have that he could possibly want- unless you've got something on him. It's blackmail, isn't it? You've stalked him for long enough to find out something really damaging, and now he's going along with this pretence just to keep you quiet. Hmm, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you do have a brain after all. So what is it?_"

"Nothing. I've got nothing on him. I'm **not** blackmailing him!" Ianto protested, his mind in turmoil. What _did_ Jack see in him? Whatever it was, he would certainly stop seeing it after the seventh date when the model realised that the musician could in no way satisfy his desires.

"_No? Bloke must be on drugs then. Shame really; it'd be a pity if his looks went. Evidently he isn't much in the brains department._"

"He has a first class degree, actually!" Ianto defended his boyfriend hotly, his voice gaining strength for the first time in the conversation.

"_A first class degree?_" Adam's tones were disbelieving. "_What in, posing?_"

"Astrophysics," the Welshman retorted.

"_Oh, I see- he's a liar too. A pretty pair you'll make then- though really, when you're standing next to him, who in their right mind would notice you?_"

Adam might have meant this remark to be cutting, but to Ianto it came as a relief. One of the more worrying aspects of his relationship with Jack was the idea that standing beside a famous model would make him more noticeable; and he only liked being the centre of attention on his own terms. But Adam was right- next to Jack, who _would_ look at some skinny nobody?

"_Anyway_," the poisonous voice in his ear continued, "_I thought I'd be nice and ring up with some advice, just in case you are deluded enough to try and shag him. My first tip, of course, would be- don't. Neither of you needs that humiliation. But if you are headstrong enough to try, might I suggest that you try and focus on __**his**__ pleasure instead of your own? I realise that you have no idea how to do that, but try letting him give the orders and do your best to follow them? I wouldn't want the poor bloke to have a terrible one night stand- of course, that's why I'm advising you not even to try- but really, one bad notch on his bedpost could send the whole bed crashing through the floor; it's probably whittled away into nothing. With looks like that…_" Adam trailed off ominously.

A little voice in his head, the one which sounded like Lisa, was telling him to retort with dignity that he didn't need Adam's advice, thank you very much; but somehow he couldn't form the words. The voice which sounded like Tosh was telling him to simply hang up, that he didn't have to sit and hear this; but his hand was frozen, his knuckles white as he clutched the phone.

"_Well, must dash_," Adam's cheerful tones saved him from having to formulate any kind of response. "_As usual, you utterly failed to give me what I needed, but thanks for the chat anyway. It's been nice to catch up. We should do this again. So, see you around, Jones._"

Jones. Adam had always called him by his surname instead of coming up with a nickname. It had sounded so nice at first, spoken in the other man's soft and teasing way- the soft and teasing tones which he had used to lure Ianto into his trap in the first year or so of their relationship, that was. By the time that relationship had eventually ended, the Welshman had come to realise the significance of the surname. Far from being an endearment, it was an insult. Jones: the most common surname in Wales. _He_ was common. He was invisible. He was nothing.

Fingers suddenly gone numb dropped the phone.

"Why now?" he whispered to the empty room as he sat there, chalk white and shaking. "Why now?"


	40. Emergency Calls

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be fewer aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can see by the aliens, the BBC (and now also I believe Star? Some American channel, anyway) have the pleasure of owning the show.**

**Spoilers- None- there might be the odd hint at the show or adapted moment here and there, but they're impossible to pick up on unless you've seen that episode anyway.**

**Rating- T**

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I really appreciate all your input. All the creative solutions for disposing of Adam did make me laugh! Hopefully when/if the time comes when I need to wreak revenge in text, I'll do your vehemence justice. Enjoy the chapter! x**

**To everyone who had some questions about Ianto's vulnerability last chapter, I hope this chapter gives you some answers. If it proves insufficient, drop me a message and I'll try and explain things more clearly.**

**Warning- there is quite a bit of swearing in this chapter, so I apologise if it offends anyone.  
**

**Super-special thanks to my uber-awesome beta Amethystbutterflies for all the support, input and suggestions; and just generally for always being there for me. Caru'ch cariad! xxx**

**x**

**x**

**Emergency Calls**

**x**

It was almost six o'clock when Toshiko closed her front door behind Jack and collapsed against it, slightly dazed. Dumped in a messy pile on her bed was a considerable pile of carrier bags from a dizzying number of shops. After lunch, Jack had dragged her to Kurt Geiger, where he had made her try on a pair of elegant and unusual peep-toed, stiletto-heeled ankle boots. Actually getting the boots on her feet had been easy enough, and she had extended her foot towards Jack, wiggling it and laughing at the scrubby white sock visible through the peep-toe. But then he had made her stand up.

With a little help from the model, she had managed to get to her feet, but it had been a struggle to remain upright.

"For heavens' sake, Jack! You know I told you in London that I can't walk in heels," she'd scolded as he'd caught her elbow and helped her to sit down again.

The model had grinned as he helped her out of the boots. "Heel first, weight on hips, back straight and strut," he'd said calmly. "It's as simple as ABC."

"Oh god," she'd groaned. "Please don't tell me that you know this from experience…"

"Occasional experience purely for the sake of charity, yes," Jack had nodded. "Of course, credit for that incredibly useful little mantra must go where it's due."

"Gwen?" Tosh had ventured, supposing that it must have been one of the model's female friends who had taught him to walk in heels.

The American had stared at her as if she had suddenly grown two heads. "_John Barrowman_," he had informed her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course; who else?"

Before she'd had the chance to put her own shoes back on, the model had disappeared, taking them with him and leaving her barefoot and in charge of Gwen's boots and all the shopping bags. A couple of minutes later he had returned, the tech expert's shoes in one hand and a pair of low-heeled black patent peep-toed slingbacks, simple and plain, in the other.

"Those are Gwen," he'd commented, gesturing to the boots where they now reposed snugly in a shoebox ready purchase. "_These_ are Tosh, am I right?"

* * *

The shoes in question were now buried somewhere under the pile of carriers. In another of the bags was a stunning cerise dress which brought out the warm tones of the tech experts skin and emphasised her slender, womanly figure. Jack had insisted on treating her to the dress after she had tentatively asked if it was alright for her to bring a date to the charity benefit the following week. After pressing her eagerly for details, reminding her very strongly of Lisa, he had dragged her straight into Monsoon to look for a completely new dress to wow her date with.

Now, leaning against the front door and reflecting on the day and all the purchases, she could not prevent a smile from creeping across her lips. For someone who hated shopping, she'd had one of the best days she'd had in a long, long time. In addition, she really felt like she had bonded with the model; and after the entire fiasco that had been Adam she was delighted by all the evidence that Jack was a thousand times the man her best friend's ex could ever hope to be.

She was jolted from these pleasant thoughts by the sound of the phone. Stepping across the room, she lifted the receiver and answered cheerfully.

"Hello?"

"_Tosh?_" Ianto's voice was barely a whisper, and the smile dropped from her lips at once.

"How the hell did he get your number?" she demanded sharply. "Or did he come round in person?"

* * *

Ianto did not bother asking how she knew what he was talking about. She was Tosh; she had the occasional ability to read minds. What mattered now was that she was his best friend and he needed someone to help him weigh up Adam's words of that afternoon. Common sense told him to ignore everything that his ex had said, but old habits died hard and he had spent two and a half years hanging off the other man's every word and believing them all.

He shrugged miserably. "Phonebook? Jack's mother found me that way; why not Adam?"

Her answering sigh echoed down the line. "_What did he say to you?_"

"He spent four minutes reminding me how worthless I am…" the Welshman whispered. His phone had recorded the length of the conversation, and the number was now branded on the backs of his eyelids. 3:47. Three minutes and forty-seven seconds; that was how long it had taken Adam Smith to shatter a year's worth of precariously rebuilt confidence.

"_Not reminding!_" Tosh reprimanded him sharply. "_You are __**not**__ worthless, Ianto Jones. You are worth a hundred of Adam. You're worth a __**thousand**__ of him! If he feels the need to talk others down just so he can feel better about himself, that's his problem. Whatever he says about you, you __**know**__ it isn't true._"

"But it is true, Tosh," the musician responded matter-of-factly. "He asked me why Jack's with me. I couldn't answer. There is no answer. I simply don't know. Ad-"

Her voice cut across him, strong and determined. "_No? Well __**I **__know. You're special, Ianto. You're young and gorgeous and talented and Jack's just as insecure in this relationship as you are because he thinks __**you're**__ too good for __**him**_."

* * *

Toshiko knew that she shouldn't be saying this. Jack had told her in confidence; he almost certainly hadn't been expecting her to immediately repeat his confessions back to Ianto. But under the circumstances, she felt justified.

Unfortunately, her tactic didn't appear to have had the desired effect.

"_Don't lie to me, Tosh_." Ianto's tones were full of hurt and betrayal.

"I'm not lying!" she defended herself hotly. "Damn it, Ianto, when have I ever lied to you? I swear to you, it's the truth. I heard it straight from the horse's mouth."

"_Then tell me precisely what he said- in his __**exact words**__,_" the Welshman challenged.

Tosh screwed up one eye and ran her tongue up her upper left canine as she tried to remember exactly how Jack had phrased it.

"He said… 'Damn it, I haven't felt like this about anyone in years!'" she repeated. "'The last thing I want to do is fuck this up. He's so special that sometimes when I'm with him I have to pinch myself to check that it isn't a dream. What could someone as young and gorgeous and talented as him ever see in an old poser like me?' I swear to you, Yan, that's exactly what he said."

"_I don't believe you_," Ianto responded, but he sounded less sure of himself this time and Tosh smiled, feeling like she had achieved a small victory.

"Whether you believe me or not is up to you," she said. "But I promise you, Yan, I'm telling the truth. And Jack isn't the first person since Adam to make positive comments about you as a partner, remember? No doubt the wanker brought out the old 'terrible in bed' nonsense; but what did the last bloke you slept with say?"

* * *

On the other end of the line, Ianto could not suppress the shadow of a smile as he recalled how after his first one-night stand after Adam he had asked far too many anxious questions about his performance, needing reassurance.

"'The sex was great, but the questions? Talk about needy!'" he repeated dutifully.

He could almost hear Tosh's answering smile down the line. "_Exactly! Ianto, Adam spent two and a half years shagging you regularly, and the wanker is a hedonist- you don't do that if your partner is crap in bed. The kind of shallow prick that Adam Smith is does not let a relationship get past three shags if you're not 'up to scratch', so to speak. He cheated on you because he's a greedy bastard and he wanted to have his cake AND eat it; __**not**__ because you were bad in bed. Trust me, Yan- if you remember, I __**have**__ spoken to several of your past conquests; __**including**__ Mr Wanton-Sex-God._"

The Welshman groaned. "Fucking hell, Tosh, I wish you'd stop reminding me of that! It was bad enough that Lisa made me recount that story in front of Jack; you **know** I just want to forget it."

The tech expert's pretty laugh echoed down the phone. "_And no doubt Jack would like to forget that he broke his phone putting it in the fridge because he liked you so much- __**as a person**__, which at the end of the day is the __**really**__ important thing- that he didn't want to seem too keen by calling right away. But you're never going to let him live that down, are you?_"

Ianto had to concede that she had a point. "Careful, dear girl- washing machine!" he retorted.

* * *

Tosh raised an eyebrow. "Bloody hell, there are two of them!" she said. "Did you always throw obscure movie quotes around and I just didn't notice; or have you dramatically increased your quota since meeting Jack?"

"_I've dramatically increased my quota since meeting Jack,_" Ianto replied promptly, his tones amused. "_And don't tell me you haven't done the same- you know that it's a surprisingly addictive habit. Anyway, I'm hoping to one day come across a quote he doesn't instantly recognise. Trouble is, his taste in television and film is so damned eclectic!_"

The tech expert laughed. "Well, if anything it will expand your cultural horizons," she commented. "And you should enjoy the attempt. Personally, I'm just happy with the ones he recognises- when you meet someone who can not only spot a Beiderbecke quote at a hundred paces but deliver the repartee as well, you know you've found a kindred spirit. And I do like kindred spirits."

"_Beiderbecke?_" She could hear Ianto's frown down the phone and kicked herself- referencing obscure TV shows she had in common with Jack and which Ianto was ignorant of would doubtless bring his insecurities back to the surface.

"Hey, all it means is that he is much more of a geek than you," she attempted to reassure her friend.

"_But what if that's what Jack wants? Someone who knows all these obscure quotes?_"

"Yan, you just paraphrased 'Drop the Dead Donkey' at me- I'd say that you know obscure quotes. But really, I'm not the person you need to be talking to about all this," she said softly. "I can sit here and insult Adam until the cows come home; and I can talk myself hoarse reminding you how amazing you are. But I'm not the person you need to hear it from right now. Hang up on me, and go and call Jack. If you have questions about your relationship with him, you need to ask **him**. He's not going to mind. Trust me- he **really** likes you, and he would much rather you talked things through when you have insecurities, so he can put your mind at rest."

"_But doesn't that give him the opportunity to say what I want to hear, whether it's true or not? Won't asking questions just give him the chance to gain power over me?_"

It was less than a week since Toshiko had first met Jack, but her many conversations with him that day had long since convinced her that the American was **not** the type to lead someone on and deliberately psychologically abuse them. She sighed heavily.

"It is an **incredibly** slim risk, I'll give you that. But look at it the other way, Ianto- if you **don't** ask, then it means that **Adam** still has power over you. And you really don't want a wanker like that holding you back from what will probably be the best relationship you will ever have. So please, Yan, just call him. If you can't bring yourself to ask him any questions then don't beat yourself up about it; but just talk to him."

* * *

Ianto considered Tosh's words carefully. She had a point, he supposed. And she'd seemed pretty sure of the words Jack had ostensibly said, in spite of the fact that they hadn't sounded very likely to the Welshman. Still, he couldn't deny that just the sound of Jack's voice would probably make him feel better right now, even if what the American said all turned out to be lies.

"Alright," he agreed. "I'll call him."

"_I think that's a good decision_." He could hear the smile in her voice as she responded, and he found the briefest flicker of a smile crossing his own lips. "_I'll come round and see you tomorrow and you can make coffee and we can talk, okay?_"

"Okay." Even though she couldn't see him, he nodded. "Thanks, Tosh."

Once again, he could sense her smile as she replied. "_That's what best friends are for_."

As the dialling tone filled his ear, the Welshman pressed the red button and stared at the phone for a long moment, weighing it in his hand. To call or not to call? He glanced across the room at his mobile, remembering the texts he had exchanged with Jack just that morning- light-hearted, flirtatious texts full of innuendo and banter.

Almost without realising what he was doing, he skimmed the handset's phonebook for Jack's landline and pressed 'dial'.

It was answered after two rings by a very harassed-sounding American.

"_Gwen? I'm just on my way… Sorry; running late- I didn't get in until gone six_."

Ianto's heart sank. Clearly Jack was in a hurry to be somewhere. The model had had a wonderful day shopping with Tosh, and now he was having a night out with Gwen. Dinner, the Welshman supposed, or drinks at _Vigilante_. He would just have to wait for his turn for the model's attention: Thursday. Wordlessly he pressed the red button and dropped the phone on the sofa cushion next to him with a sigh.

Three seconds later, it startled the hell out of him by ringing. He stared at it suspiciously for a long moment before slowly stretching out a hand to lift the handset and press the answer button.

"Hello?"

"_Yan? Did you just call?_"

Ianto studied his left hand, wondering what the hell to say. On the one hand, Jack was clearly busy, and he didn't want to inconvenience the model. On the other hand, he wanted nothing more than to pour his heart out to his boyfriend and be reassured.

The American took the decision out of his hands. "_Ok then, I'll answer that for you- my phone is telling me that you just rang. I'm sorry I called you Gwen and ranted at you; I was expecting it to be her. But I'm always delighted when my expectations are subverted and I find myself speaking to a gorgeous young musician rather than an old nag. So, what can I do for you?_"

"Don't let Gwen hear you calling her an old nag," Ianto advised with the faintest hint of a smile, playing for time. "I hear she's pretty handy with a rolling pin."

"_Psssh, if she didn't chase me with that bloody rolling pin I wouldn't be forced to call her an old nag_," Jack responded cheerfully. "_Now, did you call me for any reason other than to treat my senses with your beautiful Welsh vowels?_"

Ianto sighed. He couldn't ruin the American's evening over something so stupid; and he could always call Tosh back. Or maybe Lisa- helping her to plot fifty-six creative ways to castrate Adam using only items that could be found in a primary school stock cupboard ought to cheer him up nicely, even if it wasn't the conversation he wanted to be having.

"It's nothing. You're on your way out. I'll see you on Thursday, yeah?"

Flicking his thumb over to the red button, he hung up quickly. It was less painful that way. Before he had even had time to find the right button to speed dial Lisa the phone rang again.

"_God damn it, will you stop cutting me off?_" Jack sounded irate this time. "_It clearly __**isn't**__ nothing. You were fine this morning, and now you sound like you've hopped into a time machine and taken a quick trip to 1916 and back. So, are you going to tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to come over there and force it out of you with a lemon squeezer?_"

"A lemon squeezer?" Ianto questioned, taken aback. He could almost hear the American's answering shrug.

"_Gwen's got a monopoly on rolling pins. Well? What's it to be?_"

Sensing that if he didn't speak up the American really **would** abandon all his plans and come rushing over, Ianto sighed.

"My ex called me. It threw me a little."

"_The bastard!_" The vehemence in Jack's tones startled Ianto, and it took him a long moment to work out that if Adam really had run into the model and the tech expert, Tosh had probably told the American the whole story. Of course- that must have been what led to the comments about 'not wanting to fuck this up'.

"_What did he say to you?_"

Before Ianto had the chance to say anything, however, the model appeared to change his mind.

"_No, this isn't the way to do this- do you want to come over?_"

"But you were going out!" Ianto protested.

"_Do you really think that some stupid meeting is more important than your happiness?_" Jack demanded, and Ianto frowned.

"I don't know where you live or how to get there," he responded, unwilling to answer the model's question.

"_Hang on a tick, I'll text you the address. And just take a taxi; if you haven't got enough change on you then borrow a tenner from my doorman. I'll sort out compensation when you get here._"

"Are you sure?" The last thing Ianto wanted to do was spoil Jack's evening. "I mean, it's not an important meeting, is it?"

Once again, he could sense that the model shrugged in response. "_It's the final arrangements for the benefit on Monday- it can wait a day or two. Please, Yan. Don't make me jump in a taxi and come to you._"

"Why is it **me** jumping in a taxi?" Ianto grumbled, rising to his feet nonetheless and searching for his wallet.

"_Because he called you at home, right? So if you come to me, you get some space from the event, which should help put it in perspective._"

"Alright," Ianto agreed, already pulling on a pair of shoes. "I'll be with you in…" He trailed off, realising that he had no idea how far it was from his home to Jack's.

"_Half an hour,_" the model informed him, a smile evident in his voice.

"Half an hour," Ianto repeated, smiling too. "See you then."


	41. Consultations and CatchUps

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be fewer aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can see by the aliens, the BBC (and now also I believe Star? Some American channel, anyway) have the pleasure of owning the show.**

**Spoilers- Maybe a few for one episode in series one, but again it's something you wouldn't pick up on if you hadn't already seen that episode; and who reading Torchwood fanfic **_**hasn't**_** seen series one anyway?**

**Rating- T**

**Special thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I really appreciate all the input. And apologies for not updating yesterday; but was having technical problems or updates or something and I couldn't log in. Still, that did work to the story's advantage in the end, so I can't complain too much. Thanks for your patience, and enjoy the chapter! =)**

**Extra special thanks to Amethysbutterflies for the beta, the tickets and the Wigan hype XD**

**Finally a brief note of warning- I'm back at my parents' until the end of the month, and the internet here is temperamental at best, so I cannot guarantee regular updates. I shall try my best to keep to the updating every other day, but I apologise in advance if the patchy internet means that's not possible. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**x**

**x**

**Consultations and Catch-Ups**

**x**

Lisa Hallett was in the middle of marking a stack of book reviews when the phone rang. With a frown, she glanced between the receiver and the sheets of paper in front of her. Five more to go, and she was on a roll… When she finished she could pour a glass of wine and give her friendly neighbourhood Chinese takeaway a call. Whatever the phone call was, it could wait until food was on the way. Unless it happened to be Jack Harkness inviting her round for an orgy; but the chances of _that_ were, regrettably, incredibly slim. Sighing, she pulled the next piece of paper towards her and gave her mark scheme the usual cursory glance in spite of the fact that after twenty-three book reviews she knew it backwards.

In the background, she heard the familiar answerphone message kick in.

"Hi, you're through to Lisa. I'm either out or up to my elbows in red pen and spelling errors, so leave your party invitation after the tone. Ciao!"

The machine clicked and beeped, and then Tosh's voice took over.

"_Li? Are you out or are you screening? If you're in, pick up, please! We have a potential emergency on our hands…_"

The teacher frowned. Toshiko was not melodramatic by nature, so if she said something was an emergency, it probably was. Chewing her lip thoughtfully, Lisa rose and headed for the phone. There was a faint quiver in Tosh's voice which dictated quite plainly that the marking would just have to wait.

"_I was shopping with Jack and-_"

"Well aren't you just a lucky cow?" Lisa cut across the anxious message with a grin- best to start by putting a smile on Tosh's face before they dealt with whatever this 'emergency' happened to be.

* * *

Tosh glanced briefly in the direction of her bedroom.

"Yes, yes I am," she responded, still waiting for the guilt to kick in. She really shouldn't have accepted so much from Jack… But it had been so nice to have been treated like a queen for the day, and the model had made it quite clear that he adored having someone to spoil- which was blatantly not going to happen with Ianto; at least not for a good length of time. And Jack _was_ incredibly difficult to say no to- the man was charismatic to a fault, and perfectly willing to turn that to his own advantage. If he hadn't been a model he would have made a damn good politician, she thought, not for the first time.

"_And you don't even like shopping!_" Lisa's voice, heavily laced with envy, brought her back to her senses, and she smiled.

"Which was probably why he took _me_- **you** would have bankrupted him."

"_Tosh, he's a millionaire_."

"Are you trying to imply that that wouldn't encourage you to spend his money faster?" The tech expert raised an eyebrow.

"_I suppose you have a point. But please tell me that this 'emergency' is not simply your guilt at letting him buy you a few things_."

'Few' was not quite the right descriptor, but Tosh let it slide, a frown marring her pretty features.

"No, it isn't. As I was about to tell your answerphone, I was shopping with Jack and we ran into Adam."

* * *

Lisa's hand reflexively jerked, causing the teaspoon she held to launch its load of coffee granules all over the worktop.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, not quite sure if she was cursing the spillage or the news. "Is he still alive?"

"_He?_" Tosh's tones held a small measure of amusement. "_Adam wasn't a ghost, if that's what you mean; and neither Jack nor I murdered him in the middle of the St. David's Centre. Jack did not expire of shock or anger when I told him the story either. As for Ianto…_"

The heavy sigh which followed the tech expert's words brought a frown to her friend's face.

"What about Ianto?" she demanded. "He wasn't with you, was he?"

"_Worse._" Tosh's voice was quiet and grave. "_Adam only rang him up this afternoon to fill his ears with the same old poison. And it's all my fault, Lisa. If I hadn't goaded Adam about Ianto being with Jack…_"

"It's **not** your fault, honey!" the teacher was quick to reassure her friend. "I would have done exactly the same. It's instinct; at the time it seemed like it was for Ianto's benefit, to show how well he's doing now."

"_But I should have guessed how the bastard would react!_"

Tosh sounded like she was on the verge of tears and Lisa sent a selection of murderous thoughts in Adam Smith's direction, wishing that she was in Cardiff so she could be there for both of her friends.

"Why should you have guessed?" she argued. "He's not right in the head, that man. Anyway, it's not your place to second-guess what the wanker is going to do; just be there for Ianto. Speaking of which… Why are you calling me? I'd've expected you to be round at his trying to break through the insecurities and make him see sense."

"_I thought on this occasion that there might be someone in the vicinity who might do a better job at dispelling Yan's relationship doubts than I would_," the tech expert responded.

Lisa's eyes widened. "You sent him round to Jack's?"

"_Yes. Well- I told him to ring Jack; that if he had any questions about his relationship with him, then __**he**__ would be the person to ask. I did remind him first that Adam is a slimy, lying slug, of course! But I just reckoned that if anyone can ease his mind on the question of his worth, it would be Jack. The fact that we adore him and believe in him unconditionally rather lessens the effect of anything __**we**__ might say, unfortunately._"

"I suppose that's true." The teacher sighed heavily, flicking a stray coffee granule at the wall. "Did Yan say exactly what it was that Wanker said?"

"_Just that it was the usual rubbish- not that he phrased it quite like that, of course!_" the tech expert responded. "_I don't know if Adam __**did**__ say anything specific about Ianto's bedroom skills or lack thereof, but I reminded him what that random bloke last April said; and what Mr Wanton-Sex-God said back in uni too. But I think the main issue was that Adam made him feel that he isn't good enough for Jack- which is why I sent him to Jack for reassurance. I could repeat Jack's comments from today until the cows come home, but Ianto isn't going to believe it unless he hears it straight from the horse's mouth- and possibly not even then._"

Lisa frowned, tracing patterns in the spilled coffee. "But _will_ Jack say it to Yan? I mean, from what I saw of him in London he's a cocky git at the best of times, but I kind of got the feeling that it's all a front. You know, that whole phone thing and everything? Deep down, I reckon Jack's just as insecure as Yan is."

* * *

Tosh frowned heavily. In spite of Jack's comments that lunchtime, she hadn't really stopped to think about the impact of putting two such insecure people in a relationship.

"I never thought of it quite like that," she sighed. "But I think that given what I told him about Ianto's past today, Jack will find some way to reassure Yan- because what I **do** know is that the last thing Jack wants is to lose Ianto. He hasn't exactly said as much, but the impression I get is that if he hasn't already fallen in love with Yan, he's well on the way there."

"_It's been a week!_" Lisa protested.

"Yeah, yeah, I know- you don't believe in love at first sight." Had Lisa been in front of her at that moment, Tosh would have been tempted to stick her tongue out. "But I think that if it exists, in any kind of form, what Jack and Ianto have is it. And let me quote Jane Austen at you, Miss English Graduate."

"_English and Drama!_" Lisa corrected automatically, but Tosh could tell that her friend was listening as the tech expert launched into her quote. She had happened upon it quite by chance when re-reading 'Sense and Sensibility' the previous night, and had noted it down as being perfectly fitting of the two men.

"'It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy; it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.'"

"_Ah, Miss Marianne Dashwood- referring to her relationship with Willoughby, wasn't she?_" the teacher questioned pointedly.

Tosh frowned. "Can't you just let me believe? It's not going to stop me looking out for Ianto; and it's not going to stop me going after Jack with a giant stapler if he ever hurts Yan."

* * *

Lisa laughed- the image of sweet, gentle Tosh chasing the toned and well-muscled model around Cardiff with a stapler was infinitely amusing.

"I thought castration by nail scissors was your token threat?" she questioned, and Tosh laughed too.

"_Oh, that's the threat I issued to Jack,_" she responded. "_It allows the giant stapler to retain the element of surprise; and it also works as a back-up plan- nail scissors are a hell of a lot easier to come by these days than gigantic staplers_."

"Alright, I'll let you off then," Lisa chuckled. "Now, enough about Ianto for the moment- I know you'll keep me posted on the situation."

"_I'm going round to see him tomorrow; I'll give you a ring tomorrow night and let you know how he's holding up_."

In spite of the fact that they were 150 miles apart, the teacher somehow knew that the tech expert was nodding as she spoke, and she smiled.

"Excellent, thanks! Now, about you- we never really got the chance for a proper catch-up when you were down here, given that we were so tired we just went straight to sleep in the hotel. So- tell me all, Ms Sato!"

* * *

Tosh bit her lip. It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to tell Lisa, exactly; she just wasn't sure how her friend was going to take the news.

"Well… I met someone…" she began hesitantly.

Predictably, this tentative announcement was greeted by an excited squeal. "_Oooh! Who is he, what does he do, and is he hot?_"

The tech expert chewed her lip harder. "It's not a he," she confessed in a voice that was barely a whisper. There was a momentary pause.

"_Ok then, same questions but replace 'he' with 'she'_."

Relief swept through her, making her laugh. "Her name is Mary- Mary Arcateen," she responded. "She's a writer; and yes, she is hot- very hot."

* * *

"I'm going to need more details than that!" Lisa pressed, partly because her inner gossip _did_ need it, but mostly because she knew that Tosh needed to hear it. She had known since university that her friend had occasionally found herself attracted to a woman, but to the extent of Lisa's knowledge the tech expert had never acted on that attraction before. Whether that was because Tosh was worried about homophobia and prejudice in general or due to the values her parents had ingrained in her, Lisa did not know. The tech expert herself was not homophobic- far from it, as her close friendship with Ianto demonstrated!- but she _had_ been brought up to believe that it was not something she should 'choose' to 'indulge' in. As a consequence, Lisa knew that Tosh would be feeling very tentative and unsure of herself in this relationship, but for all that she was glad of its existence. It was about time the tech expert embraced that part of herself instead of letting her parents' attitude make her feel ashamed of it.

"Where did you meet? Who asked who out?" the teacher persisted.

"_I met her in bar,_" was the surprising response. "_I was feeling pretty maudlin the day after we got back from London; and I know that you're not supposed to drink alone, so I thought I'd go and find a bar and drink in the company of the barman. So there I was, happily sipping away, when all of a sudden there's this stunning blonde in a miniskirt standing next to me and leaning in to talk to me. She basically said that she was coming over to talk to me because some guy had been staring at her all night and she didn't want it to end with her punching him in the neck and getting barred because she's been barred from lots of places and she really likes that bar. So I was kind of dazed and just found myself agreeing; and then next thing I know we're sat on one of the sofas with a second round of drinks and we're talking like we've known each other forever. So when the bell went for last orders, I suggested that we swap numbers because I'd actually had a surprisingly good night, and she agreed. Then we walked out and she suggested that we share a taxi; and since it turns out we live in the same area, I agreed. I got dropped off first, and before I got out of the cab she just leaned in and kissed me goodnight- on the lips! I hadn't even realised that it was a date. But it was a good kiss, I enjoyed it._"

In spite of that 150 miles, Lisa could almost see the blush suffusing the tech expert's cheeks and the gentle half-smile playing on her lips.

"So you're seeing her again, on a proper date that you both agree is a date?" she questioned.

* * *

Tosh nodded in spite of the fact that Lisa would not be able to see her. "Yes, we're having dinner on Friday night; and then I'm taking her as my date to Jack's charity benefit thing next Monday."

"_Sounds like fun_." There was no envy in the teacher's tones, and Tosh smiled. She had worried just a touch that her friend might have felt even more out of things if she were not only in a completely different country, but the only single one of the trio as well.

"I hope it will be. Anyway, now you know. I just have to tell Ianto tomorrow."

"_You speak as if that will be hard_." She could hear the frown in the teacher's voice. "_He's the last person who's going to judge you, Tosh._"

"I know." The tech expert sighed. "I just hope he's not too hurt when he finds out I told Jack first."

She spoke without thinking, and it only occurred to her as the words left her mouth that Lisa too might be hurt at a new acquaintance being told before old friends.

"_Well that was administrative, right?_" the teacher questioned, apparently unconcerned. "_I mean, you had to find out if you __**could**__ invite her before you told Yan when he was going to meet her_."

"Yes, that was the general idea." Tosh paused for a moment, then smiled whimsically. "So it's all been a bit dramatic up here, relationship-wise. What's happening down your way?"

"_Absolutely nothing!_" Lisa's tones were full of frustration. "_Honestly, you lot all coming down for forty-eight hours was the highlight of my month; and I cannot wait to come up to Cardiff for that New Year's party of Jack's. And it's so quiet on the boyfriend front that I'm really hoping that friend of his, the one he showed me the picture of, will be at the party; because even if it's only a one-night stand I could bloody well use a damn good shag! At least you and Ianto are both on the promise of one, even if you haven't actually had one for a while. But as for London… I swear, all the decent men have run away to Cardiff!_"

Tosh could not help but laugh. "Well maybe you should follow them here," she suggested. "There are schools here, you know."

* * *

Lisa raised an eyebrow- it was a thought that had been crossing her mind more and more lately as London began to seem increasingly isolated from her best friends. It was the Adam affair, she recalled- she had been furious that the bastard had dumped Ianto in September, right at the start of the school year, which had made it nigh on impossible for her to physically be there for him; and there was only so much comfort one could draw from a phone call, no matter how many threats of castrating the lousy cheating wanker that phone call contained.

"Maybe once I've caught myself one of these Cardiff pretty-boys," she commented with a laugh. "Right now, I have a pile of marking to finish and I am bloody starving.

Tosh chuckled. "_Is that a hint that I should hang up and let you get fed?_"

"Would you? There's a darling! I mean, you _are_ calling again tomorrow…" Lisa refused to feel guilty for the request- they'd had a good catch-up and there didn't seem to be much more to say that couldn't be said the following day.

"_Alright, I'll free up the line so you can summon a Chinese_." The tech expert's tones were teasing, and the teacher smiled. "_I'll ring tomorrow; speak then._"

"Alright honey; 'til tomorrow!" As she replaced the receiver on the wall, Lisa stared at it in contemplation. Tosh having a girlfriend was startling enough, but as for her other news… Adam's abrupt return into their lives was unlikely to bode well; but from what she had seen of Jack the previous week she judged that he was more than capable of dealing with the wanker in question. But was he capable of being the kind of rock that Ianto needed? Made cynical by the Adam affair, the teacher was less willing than Tosh to believe blindly in the model. As far as she was concerned, only time would tell if Jack _was_ what Ianto needed or not.


	42. Penthouses and Pianos

**Disclaimer- I do not have the pleasure of owning Torchwood. If I did, there would be fewer aliens and more beautiful Welsh vowels. As you can see by the aliens, the BBC (and now also I believe Star? Some American channel, anyway) have the pleasure of owning the show.**

**Spoilers- None- there might be the odd hint at the show or adapted moment here and there, but they're impossible to pick up on unless you've seen that episode anyway.**

**Rating- T**

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I really appreciate all the feedback. I apologise if the last chapter seemed something of a digression, but we are back to Jack and Ianto here. Let me reassure you that **_**the**_** talk **_**will**_** occur in the next chapter; and in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one.**

**Special thanks to my awesome beta Amethystbutterflies for all the plotting and plans and panto hype. Caru'ch! xxx**

**x**

**x**

**Penthouses and Pianos**

**x**

If Ianto Jones had been asked to sum up his expectations of Jack Harkness' flat in three words, he would have said 'glamorous, expensive, DVDs'. As it happened he was exactly right, but that was possibly because he had cheated: the former two words stemmed from the glaring noun 'penthouse' in the address the American had texted him, as well as on a brief analysis of the model's personality. As for the Ianto's latter choice... Well the non-stop quotes were a dead giveaway. The Welshman was willing to stake his beloved violin on the fact that the American had a _huge_ DVD collection.

Such were the thoughts whirling through the musician's thoughts during the seemingly never-ending elevator ride. Fortunately he had the small space to himself- in his present state of mind, Ianto had no doubt that he would have found sharing the lift space uncomfortably claustrophobic. Hell, he'd been feeling claustrophobic enough in his own head ever since Adam had called! Frowning to himself, Ianto was relieved when the lift finally stopped and the doors pinged open to reveal a small landing with only one door leading off it. Apparently Jack had the entire top floor of the impressively large building to himself. Steeling himself to step inside and come face to face with an indecent display of wealth, the Welshman tapped softly on the door.

When it swung open a few moments later, however, it was not an indecent display of wealth that he came face to face with, but an indecent display of Jack. The two were actually tantamount to being synonymous, but when faced by the (noticeably damp and rumpled) model dressed only in a pair of uncharacteristically loose-fitting jeans, the thought of Jack's money did not even enter the musician's head.

"You're early!" the model greeted with the merest hint of a blush whilst Ianto merely stood and stared. "Usually the elevator ride alone takes ten minutes- or at least, it always feels like it. I figured that since I wasn't going out after all, I'd hop in the shower," he explained.

Ianto made some kind of half-choking noise that might or might not have been an 'mmm', and the American laughed.

"You gonna come in or just stand out there all night keeping my front door company? I mean, I daresay it gets lonely at times, but I must confess I would be very hurt if you suddenly decided you preferred it to me."

Almost to his surprise, Ianto laughed. "Hmm, tough choice..." he mused. "On the whole, I think I'll come in. My feet are pretty exhausted from standing in that lift for five hours, and I imagine you own a sofa."

The model chuckled as he stood aside to allow the Welshman room to pass. "Well I have two, actually," he commented.

"No need to show off!" Ianto scolded with a grin as he stepped into the flat, looking around himself curiously.

Jack attempted to pull off an innocent look. "What? It's not as if I own any armchairs..."

This was indeed true, as the musician noted at first glance. The living area of the open plan flat most noticeably consisted of two huge black leather three-seater sofas set at right angles to one another, one facing the window and enjoying a stunning panoramic view of the darkened city whilst the other was pointed towards a wall-mounted 32" flatscreen LCD TV. On a round deep midnight blue rug in the roughly square-shaped space between them stood a beautiful square two-tier glass-topped coffee table holding a few navy blue and silver coasters, a trio of remote controls, and the current month's copies of Vogue and Kahlua.

"Make yourself at home," Jack's voice cut across his reverie, and Ianto turned to smile at his boyfriend.

"I'm just gonna go throw some clothes on," the model added with a smile.

Ianto gave a pout that rivalled his boyfriend's best efforts. "Oh, must you? I was enjoying the view so much..."

Jack chuckled. "You want me to freeze my bollocks off just days before the seventh date? I don't exactly make a habit of answering the door half-naked in the middle of December, you know!"

The Welshman raised an eyebrow. "I should hope that you're not in the habit of answering the door half-naked at any point in the year! But alright, I'll let you put some clothes on. But only if you let me steal a kiss first."

Jack smiled. "You can steal as many kisses as you want, gorgeous," he murmured as he pressed his lips to Ianto's in a long and tender caress. It was a languid and sensual kiss, full of affection and exactly what Ianto needed right at that moment. When they broke apart at last he had a smile on his face and felt better than he had all week.

The model smiled back. "Make yourself at home," he repeated. "I won't be a minute."

He disappeared through a door into what Ianto could only conjecture was the master bedroom, and the Welshman used the time to strip off his coat and hang it on the row of hooks to the right of the door, next to Jack's beloved greatcoat.

To the left of the door was the kitchen, a fairly spacious area at least the size of Ianto's own kitchen, surrounded on all four sides by gleaming white wooden counters with pale grey granite worktops. The counter immediately to Ianto's left was an island counter with three tall bar stools on the side of the door, facing the kitchen area. There were two gaps of almost a metre in width breaking the rectangle of counters: one immediately to the left of the front door, and one diagonally opposite, over by a pair of white doors which led out of the living area through the left-hand wall.

To the right of the door the room stretched out into a three-sided 'sub-room' containing a large white dining table surrounded by at least eight white wooden chairs with midnight blue suede-covered cushioned seats. The table was visible from the kitchen but not from the living area; and in the wall which corresponded with the window of the living room were set two white doors, much like those leading out of the living area over by the kitchen. Directly ahead of the front door and the kitchen was the 'living room', of which Ianto had already noted the sofas and coffee table. The entire wall opposite the front door consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows, including a French window leading out onto a small balcony. The view, as Ianto had already noted, was breathtaking, rivalled only by the floor-to-ceiling window on the right hand wall of the dining room. The TV was on the right-hand wall of the 'living room'; the wall with no doors. On the other wall, behind the 'TV sofa', was elegant white floor-to-ceiling shelving and storage. The top half of the wall held open shelves designed in a pattern of little boxes, displaying an artistic array of books, plants in midnight blue glossy pots, and photographs in elegant silver or midnight blue frames. Below the shelving to the left hand and right hand sides of the wall were enclosed cupboards, presumably holding Jack's beloved DVD collection and who knew what else. But between the two banks of cupboards...

Ianto stared. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Almost without realising it, he found his feet taking him slowly across the soft white shag pile carpet in the direction of the object which had captured his attention. Blinking a couple of times, he pinched himself hard on the back of the hand to check that he wasn't dreaming. Nope, it was still there. Glossy white and fitted so neatly in amongst the cupboards and shelves that it was difficult to spot at first, but on closer inspection his suspicions were confirmed. It was definitely...

"Hey."

Jack's voice somewhere behind and to the left of him made him turn, and he smiled broadly. The model was still dressed in the same jeans and his feet were still bare, sinking into the carpet in what Ianto would have found a very sexy manner indeed had he not been so thrilled with his discovery. So thrilled, in fact, that he barely noticed how stunning the model was looking in those jeans and a simple round-necked black cashmere jumper with apparently nothing underneath, his hair still damp and tousled from the shower.

"You have a piano," he commented, the simple sentence so full of wonder and delight that Jack had to smile.

"Why yes, yes I do," he nodded. "I don't have room for a grand, unfortunately- or rather I _would_, if I didn't want to use the spare bedrooms as bedrooms. But Tabitha's a lovely little thing, and she fits in the unit so very nicely."

Ianto nodded, a smile playing on his lips, apparently finding nothing at all odd in the notion of naming a musical instrument.

"I had a lovely Broadwood before, in the old place I shared with Gwen before she moved in with Rhys; but unfortunately Bertie didn't fit in with the décor and I didn't want to paint him, so I had to relocate him to a new home. Tabby's a Steinway."

Ianto's eyes widened. "You have a Steinway?"

Jack grinned, nodding. "Yep; bespoke, as a matter of fact. Cost me an arm and a leg, but totally worth it."

Ianto stared longingly at the piano. It had been at least six months since he had last so much as touched one...

"May I?" he whispered, reaching out a finger to tenderly stroke the gleaming white wood.

The model nodded. "Be my guest. What say I rustle us up some dinner whilst you two get better acquainted?"

The Welshman smiled: a wide, genuine smile. "That sounds like a plan."

"Excellent," Jack beamed. "Now, what do you want to eat?"

Had Tabitha not have existed, Ianto would have requested his comfort food of macaroni with lashings of butter, a heap of melted cheese and chopped ham. However, a piano was far, far more comforting than any food on the planet, and so he smiled and shrugged.

"Whatever you want to cook is fine, Cariad."

The Welsh endearment slipped out completely without him noticing: he had been in Jack's flat for less than ten minutes and yet in spite of the clear indications of the model's fortune he already felt right at home.

It was not, however, lost on Jack, who turned away and padded over to the kitchen with a smile on his face to rival Ianto's when he had noticed the piano.


End file.
